Four Orphaned Flowers
by Kelaiah
Summary: A ferret who is enchanted by the stage. A hare who wishes to join the Long Patrol. A squirrel who seems born to be a dancer. And a mouse, who raised them all, yearns for her uncle to return... and for the one she loves to notice her.
1. The Orphans

**Chapter 1**

The sun was high in Noonvale as a small mousemaiden and her badger-nanny walked up to one of the cottages. The badgermum, with her large, heavy paw, knocked three times on the door. They were answered by a male mouse. He was tall and round, gray with age, yet his eyes and movements showed remnants of youthful quickness.

"Yes?" he asked, his eyes roving over the two females.

"Markas the Warrior?" the badger-lady asked, her own eyes looking the male up and down.

"Speaking."

"I am Merola. I have brought you your niece, Lily."

* * *

"But she can't stay here," Markas argued.

"And why not? You're the only family she has left," replied Merola, sipping her tea daintily.

Lily, in the meanwhile, was wandering about her uncle's cottage. There wasn't much room, what with all the swords, axes, armor, and chests scattered all around.

"But you can see for yourself! This is no place to raise a maiden! Besides, I haven't got any room for you two to stay in."

"You can _make_ room. Just get rid of some of these boxes."

"These 'boxes', marm, contain articles of some of my most treasured memories, and I can't be parted with them."

"So you would put the convenience of your silly little bric-a-bracs over the needs of your own niece? When she needs the most?"

"I didn't say that–"

"And what about your poor brother? I thought the two of you were fond of each other! Wouldn't you want to do this for him and his wife at least?"

"But don't you understand, she'd be _miserable_ here."

"My parents are dead."

Markas and Merola turned and looked at Lily, who had spoken.

"I'd be miserable anywhere."

Merola turned and smiled triumphantly at Markas, who threw up his paws in resignation.

* * *

Markas watched sadly as a pair of sturdy young otters carried out some of his beloved chests.

"Oh, don't look so downhearted," Merola snapped. "Honestly, you'd think we were throwing them into a bonfire instead of building a shed to keep them in."

"I hate to think of them being out of my reach," explained the old mouse, shaking his head.

"Then we shall have to make sure to bring them in often," said Lily. "That way you can show me what's in them. I've been wondering about them all day."

Markas looked at his niece with a raised eyebrow.

* * *

"And _this,"_ Markas went on, pulling out a purple robe embroidered with gold, "was what I got to wear as an honored guest to the birthing celebration of Prince Cedar in Southsward."

"Ooohhh, Uncle, its so beautiful!" Lily cooed as she felt along the soft fabric.

"Try it on, see if it'll fit."

"Oh, can I? Oh!"

The mousemaid slipped it on. It was much too large for her, but she loved it all the same.

"Oh, Uncle, I feel like a princess! Did you ever meet any real princesses on any of your journeys?"

A gleam entered the old mouse's eye. "Oh, yes indeed. . . ."

"I think we better save those stories for when you're older, miss!" interrupted Merola.

Markas laughed and agreed, much to Lily's indignation.

* * *

Lily was ten seasons when she came to live with her Uncle Markas. She was fifteen when he left in search of adventure. Though saddened by his departure, the mousemaid understood how warriors often got a need for adventure and excitement, and the serenity of Noonvale didn't always supply that.

Before he left, Markas promised his niece he would bring her back something extra-special. Upon his return two seasons later, he gave her a rather large basket.

"I do wonder what it is," Lily said as she opened the lid.

As soon as she opened the basket, a small face stared up at her.

". . . .a baby?"

"A _ferret_ baby," said Merola, raising her eyebrows.

"I came across a small tribe of ferrets. Or at least what _used_ to be their tribe. From what I heard, that particular tribe wasn't a bad lot. They were content to mind their own business, but a band of river-rats attacked them, slaughtered the whole lot of them. Only this little one was left, hidden in a burrow beneath a tree. I only found her by the sound of her crying. I felt so sorry for her, and, well, Lily, you and her have something in common. Neither of you have any parents. . . ."

"When you said you'd bring me back something extra-special," the mousemaid said, lifting the ferretbabe in her arms, "I didn't expect _this."_

"She really hasn't the experience for raising babies," Merola said.

"Well that's where _you_ come in, see?" Markas replied, giving the badger-lady a look similar to the one she gave him on the day they first came to Noonvale.

Merola snorted, but looked down at the ferretbabe resting peacefully in Lily's arms. "What'll we call her? Have you thought up a name?"

Markas allowed himself a smirk of triumph before saying, "Yes, actually, I have. I thought 'Primrose' would be a good choice. The burrow I found her in was surrounded by them."

"'Primrose' is a lovely name," Lily said, smiling down at the beautiful ferretbabe. "Primrose. That's just the type of flower she looks like. Her fur is the exact same color."

"Yes. And may she also grow up to become _like_ a primrose," Merola said grimly, but she still couldn't stop herself from noticing how adorable the ferretbabe really was. . . .

* * *

"No, not _another_ one!" cried Lily as she picked up a small harebabe out of another basket Markas had given her.

It had been a season since the arrival of Primrose (who was doing all the typical mischievous things any Dibbun would do), and already Uncle Markas had gone off on another adventure and brought back another orphaned baby.

"Her parents were woodland hares," the old mouse explained. "The mother became ill with fever and died. It's a miracle her daughter didn't get anything from her."

"And what about the father?" questioned Merola.

"Fell off a cliff on a dark, stormy night. He had been trying to go see a healer vixen for his wife, but got lost in the storm and apparently couldn't see where he was going. What else could I do but bring the little one back here?"

"Well, I don't suppose you could've done anything else," admitted Lily as she cradled the little hare. "What shall we name her?"

"Oh, she's already been named. 'Petunia'. That's what the mother told me before she died."

"'Petunia'. That's a lovely – _no!_ Primrose!"

Merola hurried over and retrieved the season-old ferret from knocking over a vase.

* * *

Two seasons later, Merola stood in the kitchen of the little cottage, reading aloud to Markas and Lily, both of whom held a little one in their arms.

"'I have heard tales about the charitable retired warrior, Markas,'" the badgermum read from the letter she was holding, "'about how he takes poor orphans into his care. Though my little one is not an orphan, she might as well be. I am completely unable to give her the life she deserves. I do not wish to inflict upon her a life with me as her mother. I would much rather she grew up in the kindness of such creatures as Markas the Warrior, and all his household. I beseech you all to take in my little Pansy, and raise her as your own. Please do not keep my request a secret from her, though. I wish for her to have some idea why I left her, and hope that she will understand someday. My thanks to you all.'"

Merola turned the letter over before stating, "That is all. That's all her mother wrote."

"Poor thing," Lily said, peering down at the bundled-up squirrelbabe, lying in one of the cradles Markas had carved.

"Yes," agreed Markas. "Having a name like 'Pansy'."

"Uncle!" cried Lily, unable to hold back a laugh.

"Well I think the least the mother could've done is give her a better name!" Markas explained.

"That'll be enough from you," said Merola. "But I must say, I hope we don't get any more babies. Not that I mind them, but I'm not getting any younger, and I don't want all the woodlands thinking they can just drop off their young uns with us anytime they want!"

"I doubt they will," Lily comforted. "And besides, we're not in this alone. We have all of Noonvale to help us, its not so bad."

"Indeed its not," remarked Markas. "The only bad thing around here is the name 'Pansy'."

* * *

Yet another season passed, and Lily found herself reading a letter addressed to her from Markas (who had left for yet another adventure).

"'Though I love it at Noonvale with you and the other three flowers, there are still adventures within my heart that yearn to be satisfied. I know you'll understand - you always seem to. I shall always love you, little niece, never forget that. You truly are your father's daughter. But something else I wish to impart to you: in one of my chests, there are some necklaces that I want all the little ones to have when they grow up. There is a turquoise necklace I want Primrose to have, a pearl necklace for Petunia, and a coral one for Pansy. Each necklace has a story behind them, and I hope to return in time to tell the maidens those tales. Give my love to Merola as well. I shall miss that old stripedog for the time being.

'Internal love and affection, Uncle Markas.'"

Lily set the letter down.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then the mousemaid distinctly heard Merola sniffle, muttering, _"Stripedog."_

* * *

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Redwall, Noonvale, or anything from such a series. Neither do I own 'Ballet Shoes', the movie that this fic is based on (I haven't read the book, so I'm taking more from the movie than the book).


	2. The Roaming Whimsical Players

**Chapter 2**

"Lily told me that Uncle Markas used to go on all sorts of wild adventures," Primrose said, her blueberry-filled basket banging against her leg. "I wish _we_ could. That way we wouldn't have to go berry-picking all the time."

"We don't _always_ go berry-picking," argued Petunia, who was hefting two baskets.

"Oh yes," Pansy interrupted sarcastically, swinging her own basket about. "Sometimes we have to wash our clothes or sweep the stairs."

"Stop complaining, you three," ordered Merola, who was older and grayer than ever. "You have much to be grateful for. Warm clothes, shelter, and plenty of food and drink. All of you would be dead or barely alive right now if you hadn't been taken in. And stop swinging that thing about, Pansy. You'll spill."

"Yes, Merola, you tell us that _every _day," sighed Primrose.

"And that we'd be scraping together a meal from bark and tree-leaves," Pansy added, smiling cheekily as she stopped swinging her basket.

The old badger grumbled, shaking her head. Young 'uns today.

Ten seasons had past since Markas the Warrior left Noonvale: the longest he had been away yet. Though at first Lily had high hopes that her uncle would return in good time, Merola noticed a steady decline in the mousemaid. But Lily had little time to feel sad and no reason to feel lonely, as she still had Merola and the three foundlings to look after.

The ten seasons of Markas's absence had certainly transformed the three foundling-babes:

Primrose, now fifteen, had grown into a tall and willowy ferretmaid of extraordinary beauty. Her cream-colored fur gleamed softly in the sunlight, while her deep brown eyes twinkled brightly. Many a male would often be twisted and land on his tail whenever she walked by.

Petunia, however, was nowhere near being the beauty that Primrose was. Shorter and stockier than most hares, the fourteen-season-old haremaid was rather plain, with sandy fur and eyes that, even though they were brown like Primrose's, did not sparkle or enchant.

Pansy was a different matter. Twelve seasons old, her fur was the reddest in all of Noonvale, and her eyes the bluest. Despite these qualities, however, she grew up to be a typical squirrelmaid: small, pretty, and lithe. Pansy was undoubtably the most graceful of her adoptive sisters. She was also the bluntest.

"But I agree with you, Merola, when you say these two have something to be grateful for. At least they're old enough to stay up late for all the dances at celebrations," Pansy complained. "I have to go off to bed like a good little squirrel while the rest of you dance your little feet off, and here I am, a better dancer than either of you combined!"

"Less of that talk, thank you, missy!" Merola barked.

"You like to dance, dear?"

The group paused and turned to look at the creature who had called out to Pansy. The creature was a female squirrel, like Pansy, only she was much older, darker, and dressed rather gaudily.

"Yes I do, very much!" Pansy replied. Pansy was never shy with strangers.

The nameless squirrel turned to an otter and a hedgehog sitting on a nearby log. "Well, don't just sit there! Play something, you two!"

Smiling, the two creatures, who were dressed almost as gaudily as the squirrel, brought out a banjo and a lute. Soon the air was filled with a lively tune.

The squirrel whipped out a long scarf made of purple gauze and danced to the beat of the music. Pansy didn't hesitate. She dropped her basket and was by the other squirrel's side in an instant and twirling up a storm.

"Perfect!" gasped the unknown squirrel, genuinely impressed. She then looked at the remaining group and bounded over.

"Come along, don't be shy!" she cried, seizing Primrose's paw and pulling her into the dance.

Laughing, the ferretmaid set down her basket and went along, managing to keep up with the steps and movements.

"Oh, don't think you can hide, shy one!" the nameless squirrel cooed as she also pulled a trembling Petunia into the fray.

All this while Merola was roaring with laughter. Pansy, with her poise and grace, was easily the best dancer. Petunia and the nameless squirrel were still adjoined in a clumsy dance. Primrose was twirling around faster and faster.

Finally the otter and hedgehog ceased playing, gasping for breath and clapping. Merola and the three maids also clapped, thanking the unknown squirrel for the dance.

"Thank you, very much! That was very refreshing!" Pansy said brightly.

"And may I ask," said Merola, "if you and your friends are part of a traveling performance group?"

"Indeed we are, my good badger," the squirrelmaid replied. "My name's Vanna. And these are Rogak and Spiketipp. We're part of a troupe called–"

Rogak the otter and Spiketipp the hedgehog jumped up and spoke the name along with Vanna: "The Roaming Whimsical Players!"

"Ah. And where is the rest of your troupe?"

"Back there a-ways," explained Vanna, gesturing over her shoulder. "Our troupe-leader, Ferdinand, he's in a bit a temper right now, and we're all trying to avoid him."

"He's mad because he'll never have the handsome face _I_ do," grinned Rogak with a roguish wink.

Spiketipp elbowed him in the stomach. "He got mad because he stepped on a sharp pebble during rehearsal, and then tripped over a branch, and ended up sitting in one of the pots that had some leftover porridge in it."

The three maids, who had been giggling so far, now burst with laughter. Merola also laughed, though not so hard as the others.

"But you're looking for a place to perform, are you not?" the old badger-lady asked Vanna.

"Marm, you took the words right out of my mouth."

"Well, if you'll just follow us, we can be back at Noonvale in time for your troupe to put on a show and have supper, eh?"

"Ah, Ferdinand will enjoy that!" hooted Rogak. "He's a hare!"

"Oh dear," murmured Merola.


	3. The Dancing

**Chapter 3**

Pansy was very excited. She was being allowed to stay up late to watch The Roaming Whimsical Players put on a show! Along with her sisters, Merola, and Lily, they sat on one of the benches in front of the "stage" where the entertainers would perform. Surrounding them were all the other creatures of Noonvale, all of whom were just as eager to see the show.

Finally, hare clad in green and gold, with a scarlet cape came bounding onto stage.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlebeasts!" the tall, lanky creature said, spreading his cloak as he took a bow. "Allow me to introduce myself. Ferdinand the Terrific-!"

Sarcastic laughter came out from behind the curtain. "Ferdinand the _'Terrific'_'e says! Hahahaha!"

The hare swelled with anger, but nevertheless pressed on. "Ahem! Ferdinand the Terrific, leader of The Roaming Whimsical Players!"

The Noonvalers clapped and cheered. Pansy whistled.

"And nooooooow," Ferdinand said dramatically, "For your entertainment . . . .

"The Juggling Moleteam!"

With a leap and a bound, the hare made way as a group of gold-and-scarlet-clad jester-moles rolled onto stage. With amazing skill and speed, the moles tossed to each other brightly-colored balls. What made the act so impressive was that each mole stood a great distance away from each other, and at several different angles. Yet not one mole was left out of the fray; each one always seemed to be grabbing a ball and tossing it only to grab another ball and toss it.

The Noonvalers were mightily impressed.

"Oh, don't think that's all we have!" Ferdinand yelled, bounding back onto stage once the moles were finished. "There's much more to come!"

* * *

And so, throughout the night, The Roaming Whimsical Players played act after act.

Mice walked on stilts and threw pies into each other's faces. Spiketipp the hedgehog (who was waved at by Pansy) came up and performed "magic" tricks. To say the creatures of Noonvale were delighted by the night's entertainments would've been an understatement. They were practically flabbergasted by the talent of The Roaming Whimsical Players.

_"Aaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnndddddddddd nnnnnnooooooooooooooowwwwwwwwwwwwwww," _roared Ferdinand the Terrific to his stunned audience. "For our next act. Born on a night of wintry storm, fed on rocks and beaten with stone, mightier than all creatures of his species, as strong as any badger, I give _yooooooooooooouuuuuuuuuuuuuuu_. . . .

"Rogak the Mighty!"

Primrose, Petunia, and Pansy clapped and cheered the loudest as the handsome otter came out, flexing his muscles and grinning at all the pretty ottermaids (who giggled and swooned).

"Enough of that! Enough!" shouted Ferdinand, dancing with fury. "You're to pick up heavy objects, not to flirt with pretty females, wotwot!"

"Yes, yer honor," Rogak replied mockingly. He stooped and picked up two weights, both of which were at least three times bigger than his head. The otter lifted the weights high above his head as though they weighed nothing. The crowds went wild, and even more ottermaids swooned.

"Ah, my good beasts!" cried Ferdinand. "You haven't seen anything yet! That is not the extent of this creatures strength! Why he- AUGH!"

While the hare had been talking, Rogak set the weights down, walked over to his troupe leader and picked him up by the waist and set him on his shoulders. The beasts of Noonvale roared with laughter.

Ferdinand, though boiling with rage and indignation, nevertheless carried on with as much dignity as he could muster. "This riverdog can carry up to five times his own size-"

"Aye!" shouted Rogak. "What with all the food this here hare puts away, he's worth five times my size!"

The Noonvalers gave out another volley of laughter. Ferdinand looked ready to blow a fuse.

"I think," the hare yelled over the gales of mirth, "that it is time for our next act! Good sir Rogak, would you kindly get off the stage so I can- Hey! What the-? I say! Put me down first! Did you hear what I said, waterdog! AUGH!!"

The creatures of Noonvale nearly died as Rogak, with the furious Ferdinand stilled perched on his shoulders, jogged off behind the curtain.

Suddenly the squirrelmaid Vanna came out on stage, arrayed in a gown much prettier than the one she had worn earlier.

"Since our dear Ferdinand is . . . busy at the moment," the squirrelmaid said sweetly, "I shall introduce the next act for him. I would like you all to welcome. . . .

"The Dancing Squirrels!"

Pansy, who had been slowly nodding off, now sat up straight with wide blue eyes. She gasped slowly as a group of the most beautiful squirrelmaidens came out on stage.

No, they didn't "come out" on stage . . . they practically _floated._ So graceful and lithe they were . . . and yet strong and well-trained. It was like watching a flock of swans fly through the air. . . .

Merola, who was also impressed with the squirrelmaids' talent, turned to Pansy with a smile, about to comment that maybe someday Pansy could dance like that-

-except Pansy wasn't in her seat.

Blinking, the old badger peered around. It should've been easy to pick out Pansy, even in the dark. Her red fur was practically like a bonfire. Finally, Merola leaned over to Lily and the other two youngbeasts.

"Where's Pansy? Did she say she was leaving?"

"What? No, she didn't say anything to me. . . ." Lily started to say, but suddenly a gasp and a cry of laughter made them all look back up at the stage.

There was Pansy, right up there on stage, dancing along with the other squirrelmaids. There was no mistaking it. No other squirrel had such vivid red fur. Plus Pansy was the only one clad in a greeny-brown tunic.

And yet she danced just as beautifully as the others did.

The squirrelmaids were surprised and indignant at first, but then almost immediately saw the funny side of it all. Vanna even danced alongside Pansy, including her into the act.

Primrose and Petunia were giggling but hiding their faces. Lily and Merola looked as though they were trying to look disapproving, but were having a hard time. The other Noonvalers simply laughed and clapped.


	4. The First Vow

**Chapter 4**

The next day, a knock came at the door of Lily's cottage. The mousemaid went to answer it, only to find Vanna the squirrelmaid standing there.

"Why Vanna!"

"Good morning, miss Lily," the squirrelmaid said brightly.

"Come in, come in," Lily said, opening the door wider, gesturing Vanna in. "I'm afraid that the young ones aren't here at the moment. They're over at Ruri's hut. She's a hedgehog, she teaches them writing and mathematics and other such scholarly things."

"Ah, how nice," Vanna replied, though the squirrelmaid seemed a bit preoccupied.

"Um, if you just follow me." Lily headed into the kitchen where Merola was fixing up some tea.

"I heard who was at the door," the badger said without turning around. "I may getting old, but my hearings' good as ever. Mint tea, Vanna?"

"Oh, no thank you. Uh, Lily . . . I suppose I better not beat around the bush."

"Is anything wrong?" Lily asked, concerned.

"Oh no, nothing like that. But something has been on my mind since last night. . . ."

Finally Merola turned around. "Oh, you mean Pansy's little prank? Please don't take offense, she didn't mean any harm-"

"Oh, I know _that. _I'm not angry about it. Neither was anybeast else. Well, Ferdinand was, but he gets angry about a lot of things. But I did want to talk to you about it."

"Yes?" prompted Lily.

"Well, I've seen her dance twice, and each time she's shown great talent. Even Primrose and Petunia have shown some skill, and so I was wondering if you'd allow them to join the act."

Lily, who had just accepted a cup of tea from Merola, nearly dropped it. "Well, I," stuttered the mousemaid. "Join the act? What do you mean?"

"I imagine, Lily," said Merola dryly. "That she wants our three little ones to become members of their troupe."

"Not members, exactly," Vanna hastened to explain. "You see, talented as she is, I think Pansy could benefit greatly from some training. And the same could be said for the other two."

"And you intend to teach them?" questioned Merola.

"Oh no, not me. But there is a member in our troupe who trained us all how to dance. You didn't see her in the show last night because she doesn't perform anymore."

"Well, who is she?"

"Her name is Breeze, though we mostly call her 'Madam'. She's Ferdinand's mother."

Both Merola and Lily raised their eyebrows.

"Ferdinand's mother?" gasped Lily.

"I'm surprised such a temperamental hare has a mother," Merola stated.

_"Merola!"_ cried Lily.

"It's alright," assured Vanna. "That's what we all think. But I'm sure Madam would love to teach Pansy and her sisters the art of dancing. But she can teach them more than just dancing. She can teach them how to sing, how to act, how to accomplish acrobatic feats, she can teach them all sorts of things! She taught most of us in the troupe, she's a wonderful teacher. In fact, she's the only creature I can think of that Ferdinand wouldn't dare lose his temper with."

"I think this is a good idea," said Merola. "After all, Pansy learned to dance long before she learned to walk. And all Primrose does is look in the mirror and recite the poems she reads in books, and Petunia, all she thinks about are swords and lances. This seems an opportune time to help them develop their talents. I say go for it, Lily."

"Do you really think so, Merola?" Lily asked, her brow furrowed.

"Of course I do. I just said so, didn't I?"

The mousemaid looked back and forth between the squirrel and badger before sighing. "Well, I suppose it'll alright. Why not?"

* * *

"That was quite a feat you pulled last night, young one," Ruri the hedgehog said to Pansy.

"Why thank you!" the squirrelmaid replied with a toss of her head. "Yes, I was marvelous up there, wasn't I?"

"I'm surprised you didn't catch it when we got home," Primrose grumbled as she struggled to figure out the problem on her parchment.

"Well I'm not!" Pansy replied. "I didn't do anything wrong!"

"You interrupted an act that you weren't apart of," Petunia said. "That's considered impolite, and I'm sure you wouldn't want anybeast to do it to you. There! I'm finished!"

"Already? Goodness, child," Ruri said, picking up the haremaid's parchment and checking it over. "No other student I've ever taught had such ease figuring these out. It's no question who's got the brains in the house," she added, giving Petunia a warm smile.

The haremaid hunched her shoulders and beamed, while her sisters shot her irritated (and jealous) looks. Neither of them were even half-way done with their parchments.

"You know," Ruri said, settling back down at her desk. "You three maidens have exceptional gifts and talents."

"Thank you, Ruri!" Petunia said gratefully.

"Yes, thank you," Pansy said, glad to be talking about her skills again.

Primrose nodded and smiled.

"I do hope you all won't let them go to waste," the old hedgehog said, sitting forward and adjusting her glasses. "I've seen many a beast with a great talent that was never sharpened or put to good use. Its always a shame whenever that happens. I just hope the same doesn't happen with any of you. I don't think I could stand it if it did."

The three maidens stared back, suddenly uncomfortable. They had known Ruri for many seasons now, but she had never been anything to them except their tutor. It had never really occurred to them that she was just as much a parent-figure to them as Lily and Merola were.

"Well," sighed Ruri, glancing out the window, "since its such a lovely day out, why don't we cut lessons short today? Ah! Don't get too excited, you two," she said to Primrose and Pansy. "I expect you both to finish your work and bring it back to me tomorrow. I'm sure your sister will help you both out, won't you?"

"Oh, sure!" the haremaid said brightly.

Primrose and Pansy rolled their eyes, but made no comment.

* * *

"What do you suppose she meant, about letting our talents going to waste?" Pansy asked as she and her sisters headed home.

"I'm not sure," Primrose said. "I mean, I suppose she meant that we should use our talents for the greater good. Or at least, that's just a guess."

"Well, what are our talents?" Petunia put in. "With me, I'm good at writing and mathematics and weaponry and things like that. Primrose, you're good at memorizing things and speaking aloud, and Pansy, well, do I really have to say?"

Pansy simply grinned.

"I think she meant for us to use our talents in ways that'll help others or ourselves."

"But how can we go about that?" Primrose asked, furrowing her brow at the hare.

"I'm not sure. But I'm sure the time will come when our talents will come in handy. But in the meantime, let's make a vow."

Primrose's brow furrowed even more. "A vow?"

"To whom?" Pansy asked. "Ourselves?"

"Ourselves and Noonvale," Petunia replied. "Here, let's get in a circle."

Standing in a triangle, the three maidens each placed their right paws in the center. Petunia spoke first:

"We three flowers vow

To use our gifts and talents

For the good and benefit

Of others, as well as ourselves

And that we will not let them

Go to waste.

This, we vow."

On the last line, the haremaid placed her other paw over the center.

Primrose did the same, saying, "We vow."

Pansy also did so, saying in a deep, dramatic voice, _"We vow."_

"Pansy!" cried Primrose.

Laughing, the squirrelmaid shot off towards the cottage, her sisters hot in pursuit, none of them knowing that they were about to receive an opportunity for their talents. . . .

. . . and that sometimes opportunity has a price.


	5. The Warrior

**Chapter 5**

"Stop fidgeting, Petunia," Merola ordered as she, Lily, and the three young ones followed Vanna to the troupe's encampment. "There's no need to be nervous."

None of the three maidens' eyes could stop looking about. Here and there they saw the very same animals who performed so beautifully last night. They looked different somehow in the sunlight, dressed in drab-colored clothes, crouched over steaming pots. Rogak and Spiketipp grinned and waved at them, and even some of the squirrelmaids called out their hellos to Pansy.

"Ah, here we are!" proclaimed Vanna, stopping before a lavishly embroidered tent of purple and scarlet. "I'll just pop in and let her know that you're here!" With a flick of the tail, she disappeared between the tent's opening.

Petunia gulped. She felt so silly with her baggy dress and tattered cloak. She also felt completely out of place amongst such fine performers; she didn't have any talent for such things! She wasn't beautiful like Primrose or graceful like Pansy, she wasn't any of those things–

"Madam will see you."

Vanna's head poking out from between the tent's curtains jerked Petunia out of her thoughts, and the next thing she knew, she was standing with her family inside of Madam Breeze's tent.

It was very dark, and almost stifling. There were rich cushions scattered all about. The walls were draped with pink and purple. Four braziers stood at four different corners of the tent, giving off a strange yet somewhat pleasant smell. This didn't seem like the abode for a creature named 'Breeze'.

At first Petunia didn't see Madam Breeze until the old hare-lady moved forward into the light.

"Madam," Vanna said, giving a graceful curtsy. "Allow me to introduce our guests."

"That won't be necessary."

Petunia stared. Never before had she seen a more stately creature than Madam Breeze . . . and yet she looked so old and frail. Her tall, slim figure was draped in dark purple and deep red. The hare-lady's fur was gray with age and yet smooth, and despite the wrinkles about her face, there was a composure about it that would've put Merola to shame.

The harematron continued to speak in that old, majestic voice. "They already know who I am, as you would've told them. And I already know them, as you have already told me."

Vanna made no argument, but rather curtsied again and stepped back.

For a brief moment, the tent was silent. Then:

"Would Primrose step forward?"

The ferretmaid gave a slight start, but moved forward steadily enough. She even managed a smile and held out her paw in greeting. "How do you, marm?"

Madam held up a wrinkled yet elegant paw. "No. All my creatures and students curtsy and address me as 'madam'."

Primrose stared for a moment. Then she complied, making an almost graceful curtsy. "Madam."

Madam looked Primrose full in the face for another moment before speaking again. "You are the oldest of your sisters, correct?"

"Yes."

"You are without a doubt the most beautiful thing I have ever seen."

The ferret beamed.

"But is that all that you have to offer? We shall see."

That wiped the smile right off of Primrose's face.

"Do not be downhearted. I must be honest with _all_ my students."

The ferret took a deep breath and nodded, still hurt.

Madam looked past Primrose, and Petunia realized that the old hare's striking eyes were on her.

"You there, Petunia, is it? Come forward."

The haremaid did so, remembering to curtsy - though hers was even less graceful than Primrose's. "Madam."

"You are the first hare I have taken on as a student, ever since my son was a little leveret."

Petunia didn't know what to say to that. But she did know that she felt even more out of place in the presence of this powerful creature. Majesty practically radiated from her!

Madam looked at Petunia a moment longer before cupping the younger hare's face in her paws, whispering, "We'll make a great artist of you."

"That'll be a feat."

All eyes turned to Pansy, who had suddenly appeared on Primrose's other side. The squirrelmaid grinned cheekily and curtsied fluidly. "Madam. But you'll have to pardon my bluntness. Petunia's always been the brains of the house. Ruri says so."

Madam arched an eyebrow at the irrepressible squirrel before looking her up and down. "You were the squirrel who interrupted the act last night, aren't you?"

"Indeed I am. I couldn't help myself, though. I love to dance, and when I saw your squirrels up there, I just _had_ to get up there and be apart of it! That's why I'm here, Madam!" She gave another smooth curtsy.

Madam stood before Pansy, who smiled fearlessly up at her. All held their breath, not daring to interrupt.

Suddenly, a corner of the old hare's mouth raised. "Then we shall have to get started very soon, then?"

Pansy's eyes sparkled. "The sooner the better!"

* * *

"Goodness," breathed Lily as she and Petunia headed out into the woods for firewood. "I never thought I'd ever meet a creature like that hare-lady!"

"Shh, somebeast might hear us and report you to her!" teased Petunia.

"Yes, I'm sure she wouldn't like it if we referred to her as 'that hare-lady'!"

Even though the two of them laughed and giggled, both were actually deeply afraid of what might happen if Madam ever really did find out.

"I must ask you, though," Petunia said, wiping her eyes. "Did she seem a bit strange to you?"

Lily shrugged. "She's a hare. Merola told me that some hares do get a little strange in their winter seasons. But I doubt _you_ will," she added, giving Petunia a reassuring nudge. "You're far to sensible to start wearing gaudy colors and sitting in dark, smelly tents."

They shared another fit of giggles and continued on in their pursuit of suitable firewood. Petunia personally chopped the wood (a feat taught to her by Merola) while Lily gathered kindling. By the time they were finished, the sky had darkened significantly, and a cool breeze filled the air.

"Oh dear," moaned Lily, looking up at the graying sky. "We'd better hurry. Don't want to get caught in a storm. Come on, Petunia!"

And with that, both mouse and hare gathered up the wood and began running as fast as they could back to the cottage. They hadn't been going that long before a shout came at them.

"Ahoy there!"

The two females paused, looking about for the owner of the voice.

"Who's there?" Lily called.

"Identify yourself!" Petunia ordered, trying to sound like Merola.

"Dakar," the voice replied. It was a male, and there was a grunt to his tone. "Please, help me, I'm hurt. My leg. . . ."

"Where are you?" Lily shouted, looking about.

"There!" Petunia pointed at the silhouette of a cloaked creature limping towards them.

They hurried forward in a slightly cautious manner, not knowing for sure if this "Dakar" was friend or foe. But as they got closer, saw that his hood was pushed back, revealing a mouse's face. The cloak fluttered in the breeze, exposing a bloodied leg.

Lily sprinted forward, taking the male mouse's arm. "Oh dear! Here, lean on me. Petunia, help."

The haremaid needed no second bidding. She took the mouse's other arm, commenting, "That's a nice sword you've got at your side. You're a warrior then?"

The mouse, Dakar, winked and gave a pained grin. "Wouldn't you like to know."


	6. The First Lesson

****

Chapter 6

Primrose soaked some cloths for Lily to cleanse Dakar's leg with, while Merola prepared a poultice over the counter. Petunia stripped the mouse of his damp, tattered cloak and placed his sword and haversack by the fire. Pansy wrapped a warm blanket around his shoulders and set a pillow behind his back.

"Well!" Dakar commented. "If I'd have known you Noonvalers were like this, I would've come sooner."

The females laughed a little, and began piling him with questions as to how he got this way.

"Did you get into a fight with a band of vermin?" Pansy asked eagerly. "Did you beat 'em all up just like how Uncle Markas would have?"

"Now how can he answer that?" Petunia butted in. "He doesn't even know who Uncle Markas is."

"Uncle Markas," explained Pansy, "is our adoptive father. He took us all in when we were babies, but he's been gone for the past ten seasons. We don't know what's happened to him. But I bet he'll return someday!"

Merola gave a glance at Lily before walking over with the poultice. "Now, now, don't overwhelm the poor mouse. Here, let's get this on here."

"Eeerrrggg," groaned Dakar, wrinkling his nose at the foul-smelling substance.

"I agree," stated Pansy, also wrinkling her nose. "Bleeaarrggg!"

"Come on, now, off with you," Lily chided, though she couldn't keep a laugh out of her voice.

Petunia patted Dakar sympathetically. "I know it smells awful, but its all for the best. Honest."

"Thank you, Petunia," Merola said as she began to paste the poultice on Dakar's leg. "Primrose, go and fetch me some long, clean strips of cloth, will you?"

Primrose obliged, and returned to find Dakar and Pansy pulling even more faces at the poultice's scent. Even Lily couldn't stop herself from scrunching up her muzzle. Petunia was standing back, well away from the smell.

"Er, Merola, just what did you put in there?" Lily asked.

"Just the sort of things that are needed for wounds like these," was all the badgermum would say.

Fortunately, the smell became less severe once the cloths were bound over Dakar's leg.

"Well _that's _a relief," the male mouse sighed. "No offense, marm," he quickly added. "I'm grateful to your help. To all of your help, really. My leg feels better already."

"You'd feel better yet if you got some food in your stomach," stated Merola, who immediately headed for the kitchen. "Primrose, Pansy, help me fix a meal for our guest."

"Oh no, that won't be necessary," Dakar said, rising himself up a bit. "You've already helped me enough–"

"Don't be ridiculous!" cried Merola. "We wouldn't be good hosts if we let a creature who looks as though he's lived on tree leaves and bark for three seasons spend the night here without a decent meal."

And with that, she disappeared behind the kitchen door, Primrose and Pansy going after.

"Really, it isn't any trouble," Lily said, sitting down next to Dakar. "We've got plenty to spare."

"You didn't think that we didn't just because I'm a hare, did you?" teased Petunia. "Relax. I'm not like most hares."

"Indeed not," Lily put in. "She's always been the sensible one of her sisters."

"Sisters? You mean-"

"Oh no!" laughed Petunia. "I haven't got any _real_ sisters, just Primrose and Pansy. We're all orphans, raised in this house."

"A very nice house," Dakar mentioned, smiling as he looked about.

"Thank you. It was my uncle's house," said Lily. "But Pansy already told you about him. Why don't you tell us about yourself? How _did_ you come to hurt your leg like that?"

"Oh, it was just an accident, really. Tried crossing a fallen log over a ditch, but the log turned out to be much older than it looked. It broke and I fell, landing on my leg the wrong way. It got cut up by some sharp rocks on the way down too."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," began Lily.

"Ah, nothing that I already haven't suffered through!" Dakar said, waving his paw and grinning.

"Better not tell Pansy that, though," warned Petunia. "She'll be most disappointed that you didn't get hurt killing off rats. I must admit, I'm a little disappointed, too."

"Why? Do you _want _there to be vermin surrounding Noonvale?"

"Oh no! I just, well, it's a rare thing for me to meet a real, actual warrior. But I'll bet you've got some great stories to tell to make up for your leg-story?"

Dakar smiled and blew air out his noise as Merola, Primrose, and Pansy came out, bearing soup, bread, and wine. "I'll try my best," he whispered before he was set upon by the food-bearers.

* * *

"It's almost as if Uncle Markas were back!" Pansy said as she pranced about the grass.

"Almost, but not quite," Merola mentioned. "Uncle Markas was old and fat, and sometimes spoke too often of a certain _princess_," she added, giving Lily a significant look. "This mouse is different. He's young, handsome, and speaks like a gentlebeast."

"But he is a warrior like Markas," murmured Lily.

"And he told the most wonderful stories!" Petunia said wistfully. "Ah, the life of a warrior!"

"He only told you the glamorous parts," Merola pointed out darkly. "The life of a warrior can be a dreadful one, it can."

"And Lily!" Pansy cried, bounding over to her mouse-guardian. "You let him sleep in Uncle Markas's old room!"

"Well," explained Lily, blushing. "We haven't any other bedrooms save that one; it seemed appropriate."

"But that makes it even _more _like Uncle Markas is back!"

"Be that as it may," Merola interrupted. "Dakar is _not _uncle Markas. Don't you forget it, now."

Primrose, meanwhile, had been very quiet. Out of all her adoptive sisters, she, as the oldest, remembered Uncle Markas the most. And she wasn't quite certain if she liked the idea of this newcomer apparently being welcomed into their lives and being put in her uncle's place. True, Dakar had been nice enough, and he certainly hadn't forced himself upon them. But . . . nobeast could replace Uncle Markas.

"Primrose!" barked Merola. "Come along, stop dilly-dallying! You've got your first lessons from Madam Breeze today! Come on!"

They were greeted by Vanna just outside the camp of the Roaming Whimsical Players.

"Hello!" the squirrelmaid said cheerfully. "Did you all have a good sleep last night?"

"Not really," Pansy replied bluntly. "We took in a warrior last night. He was wounded and he told us the most amazing stories all through the night!"

"Well," said Vanna slowly, raising her eyebrows. "Isn't that nice? Well, we can't stand around and chat any longer. Madam is waiting for you by her tent."

* * *

Once again they trudged through the troupe's encampment, being greeted left and right by all it's members. This time, however, they did not go into Madam's tent, but rather waited outside for her to make an appearance.

The old hare-lady was dressed more demurely, yet somehow seemed no less regal. Her sharp eyes roved over Primrose, Petunia, and Pansy, all clad in simple green tunics, just as she had requested.

Remembering their first instruction, the three maidens curtsied and said in unison, "Madam."

"Good," Madam said, nodding. "Now let us get to work. We have much to be done."

Indeed they did.

First came dancing, much to Pansy's enjoyment. First they learned how to stretch in order to limber themselves. Next they learned to hop up and down while making graceful gestures with their arms. Then they learned how to walk on their toes. After that came learning how to bound.

Pansy actually looked serious for once during the whole lesson, while Primrose smiled in a somewhat silly fashion. Petunia, however, felt her breakfast being churned unpleasantly in her stomach.

And all the while, Madam's eyes would continue to rove over Primrose and Petunia, straight to Pansy.

* * *

Lily returned home to check up on Dakar. Merola stayed behind to keep an eye on the three maidens.

When they had left, the male mouse was still asleep, and Merola had shooed them all out, saying that he needed his rest for the leg to heal properly.

Tip-toeing towards the bedroom door, Lily knocked softly on it, calling, "Mr. Dakar? Are you awake?"

No answer.

Slowly, the mousemaid turned the door knob, opened the door a little and poked her head in. There he was, still asleep in bed.

_He must've been through a lot,_ Lily thought as she carefully closed the door, _to sleep that heavily. Oh well._

She crossed by the fireplace when she realized that his sword and haversack were still there. For a moment she considered leaving them there, but then decided that it'd be better for Dakar to awake with his personal belongings nearby. The mousemaid reached forward and gripped the sword, pulling it forward. As she did so, however, the sheathed blade-tip knocked over the haversack, spilling out some of its items.

Lily squeaked and looked anxiously at the bedroom door. No sound came. Good, he was still asleep.

Kneeling down, the mousemaid quickly began to put the things back into the pack, but paused suddenly. Amid the trinkets and clothes was a locket, which had snapped open. Fortunately it wasn't broke, but it was the pictures inside that caught her attention.

In one frame was a drawing of a mouse that was unmistakably Dakar. The other frame held the portrait of a beautiful mousemaid.

Blinking, and suddenly feeling very shaken, Lily hastily put the things back into the haversack, and decided she had better not handle the warrior's things anymore.

Dakar came out of the bedroom not too long after that. He was leaning on the cane Merola had left by his bed the night before.

"I feel like an oldbeast," the male mouse said, grinning at Lily.

The mousemaid laughed. "You're not an oldbeast. My Uncle Markas, _he _was an oldbeast. But you've heard enough of him already, I suppose."

"Oh, I don't mind," Dakar assured her as he sat down at the table. "It's nice to hear about other warriors. Where are the others?"

"Oh, the maids have dancing lessons, and Merola went along to keep an eye on them."

"Dancing lessons, eh? You've got some very talented daughters on your paws, marm."

Lily laughed again. "Oh dear, now _I _feel like the oldbeast, having daughters and being called 'marm'."

"You don't look at all old."

"I should hope not. Now, what would like to eat for breakfast? I've already had mine; we didn't want to wake you this morning. Merola said you need rest in order to help your leg heal."

"I'll have whatever you have. When you've been living on the diet I've been on for the past few seasons, you grow less picky about your food."

* * *

It was almost dusk when Merola returned with the three maids.

"Ah, you're back!" Lily said as she got up from chatting with Dakar. "So? How was it?"

"Great," murmured Primrose.

"Dreadful," mumbled Petunia.

"Simply lovely," whispered Pansy.

Lily stared as the three normally energetic youngbeasts tottered past her to their room. She turned to Merola for an explanation, who sighed and grinned.

"That Breeze sure knows how to knock the wind out of a beast, she does!"

Dakar threw back his head and roared.


	7. Another Lesson

**Chapter 7**

"It's no use," said Petunia the next morning as she and Dakar headed down to the well. "It's no use turning _me_ into a 'great artist'. I've no talent or any use for such things as singing and dancing and all that stuff. I already know what I want to do with my life!"

"And what's that?" Dakar inquired, each of his paws occupied; one holding a bucket while the other held onto his cane.

"I want to be a Long Patrol hare."

"Ah! A noble ambition," smiled Dakar. "I've come across a few of those types in my travels."

"You have?" cried Petunia, suddenly excited.

"Yes. I've done a bit of seafaring in my days and had to row ashore to mend my boat on one occasion. That was when I met them. They were patrolling the shores, as was their job. I believe they were–"

"Runners."

"What?"

"Runners. That's their official title. Or at least that's what I've heard from travelers and read in books. But go on, you were saying?"

"Well, I was saying, they were on the lookout for seavermin, and from a distance they couldn't tell if I was a rat or not. I offered my assistance by disguising myself as a searat and doing some spy-work for them."

"And did you?" Petunia asked, wide-eyed.

"At first they said this was Long Patrol work, and they wanted to keep as many beasts safe and alive as possible, but I insisted, showing them I knew how to wield a sword and fake a searat accent. So they dirtied me up and tore up my clothes so that when the corsair ship came ashore, I was prepared to come aboard and ask to join them. They believed me too."

"Did you ever get to fight alongside the Long Patrollers?" Petunia asked eagerly.

"Oh, yes indeed, little maid. There are few things as astounding as watching a hare fight. And there were two of them."

The haremaid sighed dreamily. "Oh, for as long as I can remember, ever since I first heard the word 'Long Patrol' I've wanted to be one of them. Uncle Markas told me some tales of them, and he said he would teach me how to use some of his weapons when I was a bit older – and when Merola and Lily stopped objecting to it."

They arrived at the well. Petunia tied the rope to her bucket and lowered it down.

"But before he could," she continued, "Uncle Markas left and hasn't been back for ten seasons." The haremaid sighed one again, less dreamily than before. "I used to imagine myself going of in search of him and rescuing him from a tribe of savage vermin that were about to cook him."

"Why would they cook him?" asked Dakar, furrowing his brow as Petunia pulled her now-filled bucket out of the well.

Petunia shrugged. "I don't know. I remember Uncle Markas as being a very fat sort of mouse. . . ."

"Ah. Say no more," laughed Dakar.

Petunia laughed as well, taking his bucket and lowering into the well. "But I have little hope of ever doing such a thing. I haven't the proper training, and the only training available are all these dance lessons."

Dakar smiled warmly. "As you may have forgotten, I'm a warrior too, just as your Uncle Markas was."

The haremaid looked up at the mouse suddenly, her eyes alight with hope.

"If your uncle isn't around to teach you what he promised, then I suppose I shall."

Petunia squealed with happiness and wrapped her arms around the mouse's neck.

"Whoa!" the two of them toppled over, laughing as water spilled all over them.

* * *

"So," said Lily as Dakar helped her ball yarn. "Petunia told me that you're to give her sword lessons."

"Does that displease you?" was all Dakar would reply.

"This is a peaceful place," Lily began, but was interrupted by Dakar.

"Yes, but that doesn't mean that trouble can't come to it. You never know what can happen in the future!"

"Well . . . nobeast really does know where Noonvale is, do they? I mean, Noonvale is practically hidden. Few even know of Noonvale."

"But there are some who do," countered Dakar. "Lily, Petunia wants to be a Long Patroller. It's not fair to deny her that sort of thing. She'll either hate you and grow despondent for the rest of her life or run away to fulfill her dream. Lots of young, aspiring warriors do that."

"Did you do that?"

Dakar was silent for a moment before replying, "Yes, I did."

Silence reigned once again as the two mice continued to ball yarn. Finally Merola came in, an empty laundry basket in her paws.

"Here, Mr. Dakar, let me take care of that yarn, and you can go and put the tea on for us, eh?"

The warriormouse smiled, took up his cane and did as the badgermum bade him. Merola slumped down next to the mousemaid and began to roll up some of the yarn.

"Well, what do you think of Petunia getting sword lessons?"

"I can't say I approve of it," Lily confessed. "But Dakar has a point. She wants to be a warrior, and if we refuse her, she'll probably run away. And I don't want that to happen, especially if it means she'll leave here hating us."

"Then let her have the lessons. She was miserable learning how to dance the other day. It's hopeless turning her into a lady. We might as well focus that kind of attention on the other two. Of course, I do wonder if a warrior with a bad leg should be teaching her."

"It's just my leg that's bad, Miss Merola," said Dakar, coming back into the room. "I can still hold a sword, and really, it's fighting in this sort of condition that a warrior must train for. And besides, my leg will get better, wait and see!"

Lily sighed. "Well, I suppose that's it, then! Though I still think Petunia ought to also continue her dance lessons with Madam Breeze as well. I don't think she should quit when she's barely started."

"Plus it might offend Breeze," added Merola, grinning.

Lily shot the badger a look, but nevertheless mentally agreed.

"Don't you think it'll be a bit much, though?" asked Dakar. "I mean, sword lessons, dance lessons, and math lessons all in a single day?"

"We can work it out," Merola said. "Ruri told me that Petunia is already so advanced with her math that there really isn't much point in further teaching her. And she doesn't have to take her lessons all on the same day. Perhaps one day she can take dancing lessons and the next day have her sword lessons. And perhaps during a few evenings we can give her a few math problems just to keep her mind sharp."

Dakar smiled. "Well, it's all settled then, isn't it?"

"Yes, I suppose it is," conceded Lily, who was beginning to feel rather excited about her charges' futures.

* * *

Meanwhile, over at the troupe's encampment, Primrose, Petunia, and Pansy were continuing the lessons from the day before.

Much like yesterday, Primrose enjoyed herself enough, Petunia was bored and awkward, and Pansy was blissfully serious. And much like yesterday, Madam's eyes would often rove over the elder two to rest on the youngest.

However, this time, Spiketipp sat nearby to watch. He had a stack of parchment next to him and a quill which he started writing with. And every now and then, his eyes would look up to rest upon the beautiful visage of Primrose.


	8. The Audition

**Chapter 8**

"I was hoping these sword lessons would get me out of dancing!" complained Petunia that evening, rubbing her feet. "But instead I've only got every other day to look forward to now!"

"Just be glad that they agreed to allow you sword lessons at all in the first place," said Primrose, who was also rubbing her feet.

"It strikes me as so strange that neither of you like dancing," said Pansy, the only one of the three who wasn't rubbing her feet. "How can you not? It's like . . . I don't know what it's like. But whenever I do dance . . . I feel so alive."

"That's because you have talent when it comes to dancing," explained Primrose.

"So do you," put in Petunia.

"Yes, but I'm not as good as Pansy here," the ferretmaid countered. She was silent for awhile, before saying, "But I think I'd like to act."

Just then, almost as if in answer to Primrose's confession, Lily knocked at the door, calling, "Maidens? Are you all still awake?"

"Yes," Primrose called in response.

The door opened a bit and the mousemaid stuck her face in. "Vanna is here. She'd like to see you."

* * *

Within a moment the three maidens were gathered around Vanna, who was beaming with excitement.

"Well, I have some news," she said. "You know Spiketipp, our magician, yes? Well, he's a hog of many talents, meaning that he also writes plays for the troupe to perform. He's just finished a play that he's been writing for some time, and he decided that for this one, he would like the maidens of Noonvale to audition for the role of the leading lady."

"Here's your chance, Prim!" Pansy cried, slapping the ferretmaid on the back. "You can start your acting now!"

"I, well-" began Primrose, a bit flustered, but Pansy was still speaking.

"When are the auditions?"

"Day after tomorrow. We want to give every maiden in Noonvale a chance to hear about this so they can audition as well."

"Oh phooey on them!" snorted Pansy. "Our Primrose can out-act them at anything!"

Vanna laughed. "It's not just acting, mind you. This play is a musical. The maidens have to sing and dance as well."

"Oh. Well, Primrose can do that too! She's a lovely dancer!" proclaimed Pansy.

Primrose laughed in spite of herself. She was a bit in shock that opportunity had come to her so quickly.

"So it's the day after tomorrow," said Lily, "and the maidens must sing and dance as well as act?"

"Yes. They must recite to show that they can act and memorize lines and such."

"Well that's Primrose's speciality!" said Merola, chuckling.

"And, though it's not a requirement, it would be nice if she dressed up for the audition. It'll show that she's serious about getting the part."

"Thank you for telling us about this, Vanna," Lily said.

"Oh, you're welcome. I do hope you'll come, dear," the squirrelmaid added to Primrose, who smiled.

"Of course I'll come!"

* * *

However, the next day, Primrose felt as if she wasn't going to be going after all.

"I can't go! I simply have nothing to wear!" the ferretmaid wailed, throwing random dresses into the air.

"Oh, don't be silly, you must have something," Lily said, going through the frocks with her.

"No, no, _no!_ Nothing will do! None of these could _possibly_ do!" Primrose flung the dresses from her and slumped down on the bed, her eyes turning red and puffy.

"I don't see why you can't go in a belt and tunic," Lily muttered. "Or why any of these frocks won't do."

"These old rags?!" cried Primrose disdainfully. "You heard Vanna last night, I must look as if I'm serious about getting the part, otherwise I won't stand a chance!"

"Now Primrose," said Ruri the hedgehog, who was visiting. "I may be no expert at putting on shows, but I do know that performance comes from within. I've seen you recite poems and songs, and when I do, I no longer see Primrose the ferret; I see another creature standing in her place, a creature that is either a legendary mousethief, a warriorsquirrel, or a wandering fox-healer."

"In a belt and tunic," Merola stated dryly.

Primrose broke down in tears.

* * *

Meanwhile, Pansy was somewhere in the background, dancing away, blissfully reliving this morning's events:

_Madam had called Pansy into her tent alone, and revealed some rather startling news._

_"You will no longer study along with your sisters," the old hare-lady stated. "You will no longer study acting; you will no longer study singing, no longer study music, or anything else . . . unless it is dancing._

_"From now on, you will only study dancing, and all of your lessons, will be personally taught by me._

_"You have a gift, Pansy. You have the talent, and the potential, to become a truly remarkable dancer."_

_Pansy, whose emotions went from shocked to saddened to angry to incredulous and finally to stunned happiness, whispered, "As remarkable as you?"_

_Madam shook her head. "Oh my child, much, much more remarkable than me."_

The young squirrelmaid had been practically floating for the rest of the day.

* * *

"I still don't see why this one is so bad," Merola was saying, holding up a pretty violet dress.

"It's from two seasons ago!" wept Primrose.

"Yes," agreed Lily. "She's outgrown it."

"Round the bust," sang Pansy, coming out of her reverie.

_"Shut up, Pansy!"_ shouted Primrose.

"Be quiet, Pansy!" snapped Merola. "And less of the bust chat, thank you!"

"Oh I'll be quiet," screamed Pansy, firing up. "But not before I've had my say that I think it's _very_ unfair that throughout all this fuss about _Primrose's_ frock, and _Primrose's_ audition, not _one_ beast has said they're pleased about Madam's plans for_ me!"_

Mostly everybeast began talking at once, Primrose ignoring her sister and crying that she had to get another dress made, Merola muttering about the selfishness of youngbeasts today, Lily consoling Pansy, Pansy complaining about how nobeast cared about her, and Ruri telling Primrose she would help her make a new dress.

Nobeast noticed Petunia sneaking out to where Dakar was waiting.

"Goodness," the warriormouse said, handing her a small sword he had found in Markas's shed. "What's all the ruckus about?"

The haremaid sighed as she took the weapon. "It's nothing."

"Doesn't sound like nothing."

From inside, somebeast else screamed in frustrated fury (either Primrose or Pansy).

Petunia couldn't help but chuckle as she set out for her first sword-lesson. "I sure hope opportunity doesn't get so loud when it comes around again."

* * *

Let it be said that Primrose felt ashamed for the way she acted that day, and that she apologized in good time to everybeast, and that they all forgave her. Pansy, following her sister's good example, admitted herself also guilty of behaving badly, and was soon forgiven as well.

When all was said and done, Primrose found herself with a new, well-fitting dress of pale violet with a green waistsash donated by Ruri. She also chose the song she'd sing and the poem she would recite, and figured she would simply dance the only way she knew how to dance.

Merola walked with Primrose to where the auditions were being held: at the place where The Roaming Whimsical Players made their first show. There were already a great number of pretty young females there, all dressed up and waiting to audition for the part of Spiketipp's leading lady, Angelica.

Primrose felt a bit daunted at the sight, but was firmly pushed forward by Merola, and soon found herself in line for the audition. Ferdinand the hare was there, sitting where the audience sat, watching as the maidens came forward one by one to show what they could do. Spiketipp the hedgehog sat next to him, and when he saw Primrose, his eyes lit up.

Merola noticed Vanna watching the whole process and went to stand next to her.

The squirrelmaid smiled up at the badger and whispered, "I saw Primrose. She looks lovely!"

"She does, doesn't she?" Merola then turned her attention to the ottermaid that was currently singing.

_"You lark on high,_

_O minstrel of the sky,_

_Sing out! Sing out!_

_Now sing you joyously,_

_To Mother Nature and her earth,_

_This is the golden summer's birth,_

_A wondrous sight to see!_

_Hail, fine tall trees,_

_Your leaves dance on the breeze,_

_Rejoice! Rejoice!_

_And sway so gracefully,_

_You'll feel your blossom soon give way,_

_To ripened fruit some sunny day,_

_Oh please save some for me!_

_Sing out! Rejoice!_

_Let all who have a voice,_

_Call out so sweet and happily,_

_O'er woodland vale and grassy lea,_

_Good day my friend to thee!"_

The ottermaid, whose name was Winifred, sang with a voice like the lark in the song. And as soon as she was done, she started to dance. So graceful she was that it looked like only creature that could have put her to shame was Pansy.

"My," whispered Merola. "She's very good, isn't she?"

"Yes," replied Vanna. "She's the best I've seen all day. She speaks well, has a lovely voice, and look at the way she dances!"

Once Winifred was done, all creatures present clapped. The ottermaid curtsied to Ferdinand and Spiketipp, who were also clapping ("Good show, young otter-gel!"), and scurried back into line, next to Primrose.

"I've got a hole in my frock under my right arm," she whispered anxiously to the ferret. "I had to change my normal positions to hide it. I do hope Ferdinand didn't notice it-"

"You there, little ferretmaid," called Ferdinand suddenly. "What's y'name again?"

"Primrose, sir."

"Come down and let's see what you got. Come along, now. Step lively!"

Carefully, the ferret did as she was told. Spiketipp beamed at the pretty picture she made: slender and tall, cream-colored fur combed to perfection, brown eyes twinkling, her colors complemented by the pale violet of her dress.

"Would you like to sing first, or recite?" Ferdinand asked, propping his long footpaws up in front of him.

"I'll . . . I'll recite."

"Very well. Whenever you're ready."

For a moment there was silence as Primrose summoned her courage. The poem she had chosen was one that she had read from one of the many diaries of Uncle Markas. The diary explained that he had first heard the poem at a place called Redwall Abbey, and that the poem was by a legendary mousethief named Gonff. Primrose had always enjoyed it, and now, here she was, about to use it as a stepping stone toward opportunity.

Finally, she began.

"Across the lea, beneath the leaves,  
When countrylands wake up to spring,  
Hurrah here comes the Prince of Thieves,  
Hear every small bird sing."

At first Primrose's voice was calm, pleasant, yet monotone. However, as she went on, her voice took on an animation, a playful slyness, and a crafty smile spread across her features.

"So daring and so handsome too,  
He makes a wondrous sight,  
But if he comes to visit you,  
Lock up your treasures tight."

She finished . . . only to be met by silence.

* * *

**Disclaimer:**The two songs I used in this chapter do not belong to me, they belong to Brian Jacques. Winifred's song was from the beginning of "The Legend of Luke", and Primrose's poem is from "Mossflower."


	9. The Angelica Play

**Chapter 9**

Once the auditions for the part of Angelica were done, all of the auditioning maidens gathered a ways off while Ferdinand and Spiketipp conversed among themselves.

Primrose watched them, feeling more and more hopeless by the minute. She felt so embarrassed by her performance. She sang the song all wrong, her speech had been horrendous, and the way she danced . . . _ugh!_

Many of the other auditioning maids looked like they were thinking the same thing, and just as many were glancing at Winifred the otter, who was sitting primly on a stump, looking very calm and expectant. Some thought they saw a smug gleam in the ottermaid's eye, but it was probably just a trick of the light.

Primrose wished they would just get it over with so she could get out of here-!

Suddenly the ferretmaid noticed that Vanna had been called over to Ferdinand and Spiketipp and included into the whisperings. This could only mean that they had reached their decision.

And sure enough, the squirrelmaid came walking over.

Primrose sat quite still, suddenly more fearful than she had been. She knew wouldn't get the part, she knew she couldn't: Winifred had been too good. But just _knowing_it wasn't as painful as it would be if somebeast said it out loud. . . .

"Well done, all of you."

Primrose blinked. Vanna was standing over them, smiling with her paws folded. A sea of young, eager faces turned towards her.

The squirrelmaid took a deep breath, and, with her smile broadening, said, "Primrose is going to play the part of Angelica, and Winifred is assigned as understudy."

It took Primrose a moment to absorb what Vanna just said, but before she could say a word–

_"What?!"_

All eyes turned to Winifred, who had shouted. The ottermaid was standing up, her calm smugness replaced by a look of incredulous rage.

"That's _ridiculous!_ When _I _finished, everybeast _clapped _for me! Even Ferdinand and Spiketipp, you saw them, Vanna! _Nobeast_ clapped for _Primrose_, there was just _silence!"_

_"Awed_ silence," Vanna corrected. "And yes, you were very well with your song and dance, but Primrose is a better speaker, and she looks just right for Angelica-"

"Oh, so THAT'S it, then?" roared Winifred. "You've chosen Primrose just because she's prettier than me! If I'd have known that's how you were going to choose, I would've stayed home and spared myself the embarrassment!"

And with that, the ottermaid turned on her heel and stormed off.

* * *

"Do you think I can do it?"

Petunia looked up from her desk where she had been doing some math sums. "Do what?"

"Play Angelica," Primrose said. The ferretmaid was huddled on her bed, her knees pulled up to her chest. "Winifred was better than me at the auditions. Vanna said I was a better speaker, but . . . she also said I looked the part intended for Angelica. Do you suppose . . . that I only got the part because of my looks?"

Petunia shook her head and went and sat down on the bed next to her sister, putting a comforting arm around the ferret.

"Don't be silly. I believe Vanna when she says you were a better speaker. And you are. You're very good at reciting poetry. And as for your looks, well, its not your fault if Winifred has the face of a bullfrog!"

Primrose laughed in spite of herself.

"Anyway," Petunia continued, rocking her sister back and forth. "Winifred only said that because she was upset. She was just being a bad loser. She should be grateful that she got to be your understudy. She could've not been included into the play at all. Now stop fretting, Primrose. You're going to do an excellent job."

Primrose sighed and rested her head against the hare. "I suppose you're right. Thanks, Petunia. . . . oh by the way, I forgot to ask. How were your sword-lessons today?"

The haremaid snorted. "Dreadful. Well, it wasn't that bad. I mean, I enjoyed myself, but I've still got much to learn. Dakar says I have potential, but I'm going to have to work hard. He thinks continuing my dance lessons are a good idea, that they'll help me with my balance and such. And I suppose he's right. I think I'll enjoy my lessons more, knowing that they're all going towards me becoming a Long Patroller."

* * *

A week later, Primrose stood up on stage along with The Roaming Whimsical Players. It had been a hard week, reading aloud from Spiketipp's script, learning all her cues as well as everybeast else's, memorizing all her lines, knowing where to stand and how to speak and when to sing. . . .

. . . but now, as she stood on that stage in front of all of Noonvale, she realized it had all been worth it.

She stood in the middle of the stage, looking about, pretending to be dazzled as the Dancing Squirrels pranced about her; she pretended to drink tea with Ferdinand and two of the clown-mice; she pretended to cross swords with Rogak the otter; she pretended to be enchanted by Spiketipp the Magician; she danced as gracefully as she could and sang as sweetly, until finally, the final line was spoken by "Angelica" herself.

"I'm not finished yet, Lord Brognic! I'm coming for you! Noonvaaaaaale!"

The audience of Noonvalers erupted in claps, cheers, and whistles.

Primrose took a deep breath as she and the other actors took a bow – when suddenly she felt herself pushed forward a bit. Glancing over her shoulder, the ferretmaid saw that the other actors were extending their arms to her, smiling fondly. Primrose looked back out over the audience, over the laughing, cheering, _adoring_ audience.

Backstage, Winifred the otter had sat on a crate all by herself. She hadn't cared to sit out where she could see the play. She didn't want to see the part of Angelica being played by anybeast else but herself.

The clapping and cheering from the audience hadn't done anything to appease the ottermaid's temper, knowing that it was all for that ferret. The ferret that was now coming backstage with the rest of the cast, laughing shakily with stars in her brown eyes.

Within seconds Primrose's friends and family were backstage as well, congratulating her on her fine performance.

"I knew you had it in you!" proclaimed Ruri.

"Simply wonderful!" smiled Lily.

"You were marvelous up there!" cried Pansy.

"Fantastic," said Petunia. "Absolutely fantastic!"

"Well done, well done," grinned Dakar.

"Oh, thank you, thank you all!" Primrose gushed, fanning herself. "Oh dear, and we're not even finished with the story yet, either! Spiketipp told me that he's written this play as a series, there are two more parts to this. Meaning it'll be two weeks before this is over and done with!"

(Winifred, when she heard that, looked even more disgruntled.)

Dakar took Ruri home, and Lily said she would walk with them some of the way. The others waited for Primrose to change into her old, normal clothes.

"What did you really think of it?" she asked her sisters, both of whom were wearing the necklaces Uncle Markas had left them, as it was a special occasion.

"Oh, so you didn't believe us the first time, then?" Pansy asked, pretending to be indignant. "Very well then, it was a _horrible_ play, simply _despicable!_ I never want to see another play with you in it ever again!"

After they all laughed, Primrose called, "Oh Winifred, would you hand me my belt?"

Rolling her eyes, the ottermaid stood to comply, but Merola stepped in. "I'll do it."

Gratefully, Winifred sat back down. The badgermum crossed over to where the belt was, only to bump into Ferdinand, who was holding something in his paws.

"I see that miss Primrose has left her cloak in the wings _again,"_ the hare said huffily. "Do please remind her that she is either to wear her cloak at _all_ times over her costume or leave it in her own section backstage while she is on stage."

"Yes, Ferdinand, she knows the rules," Merola replied patiently.

As Ferdinand stomped off, the badgermum turned with a serious look on her face to Primrose, who had been making imitations of Ferdinand to a giggling Pansy and a suddenly nervous Petunia.

* * *

Later that night, Dakar arrived at the cottage from taking Ruri home to find Lily kneeling over a slumbering Pansy in a chair.

The mousemaid glanced up, smiled, and whispered, "She's all worn out by all the excitement." She began to pick the squirrelmaid up when Dakar intervened.

"Wait, here, I'll carry her." Gently, the mousewarrior slid Pansy's small form into his arms without waking her up.

Lily then led Dakar into the maid's bedroom, where he carefully inserted Pansy into the only available bed. The mousemaid watched as he pulled the covers over Pansy, making certain her head was resting comfortably on the pillow.

As soon as they softly closed the door, Lily murmured, "You go at it like you've had some of your own."

Dakar blinked. "What?"

"Just now, with putting Pansy to bed. You must have had little ones of your own to be able to have acted like that."

"Oh, that." The mousewarrior gave a small, nervous laugh. "Actually, I haven't. I've never had any children of my own."

"Then you've had younger siblings?" Lily asked as they returned to the kitchen.

"Yes, actually. I come from a big family."

"Ah. Where is your family, anyhow? Do they live anywhere near?"

"Well, no, actually. They don't. They live quite far away."

"Oh. Do you miss them?"

"At times, yes. But other times," he admitted, sitting down, "I must admit, I do forget about them."

Lily nodded understandably, sitting next to him. "I know what that's like. I do miss my Uncle Markas, but, like with you, there come times when I just don't think about him at all. It makes me feel guilty at times, but then I realize, there's nothing else I really can do, can I?"

Dakar looked at her thoughtfully for awhile. "No, I suppose not."

Lily smiled. For a moment there was just quiet between them, and then she found herself asking another question. "Have you any dibbun-hood friends?"

"Um, yes," Dakar replied, a bit surprised by her question.

"What were they like?"

"Well, there was Brogg, Arrowtail, Drubb, Aspen, Rudd, and, let's see. . . ."

"Any," Lily suggested, her heart burning and yet freezing even as she said it: "lady-friends?"

A strange look passed over Dakar's face. His eyes took on a faraway look. Lily suddenly found herself wishing she hadn't asked the question at all . . . but when he spoke, his voice was rather calm, almost matter of fact.

"Yes. Her name was Spring."

"Spring? Well, that sounds pretty."

"It was pretty. But. . . ."

"But what?"

Silence.

Then: "She wasn't who I thought she was."


	10. The Second Vow

**Chapter 10**

"Spiketipp says I'm doing so well, he's thinking of writing some more for the play to lengthen the series," Primrose stated rather haughtily as she, Petunia, and Pansy had tea over at Ruri's house one afternoon.

The other three females exchanged a look. Proud as they were of Primrose's success with the play, they were getting a bit tired of the ferretmaid's bragging and uppity-ness. She lay primly on a couch, lying so that she took up the whole thing while her sisters had to sit on stools.

"I also heard that Noonvale's patriarch Juniper and his daughter Marella enjoyed themselves very much and are even planning on watching some of the rehearsals," Primrose continued.

Ruri arched an eyebrow. "And will Marella stop for tea in your backstage section afterwards?"

Pansy and Petunia started to snicker, but they stopped once they heard Primrose's immediate reply: "Oh, I hope not. I'm always so tired after rehearsal."

This made the two younger beasts roll their eyes.

"Oh, Pansy," said Primrose suddenly. "Would you fetch me my kerchief?"

"No I will _not,"_ snapped Pansy rather indignantly.

"Is something the matter with your arms and legs?" Petunia sneered.

_"No,"_ Primrose answered sharply. "I just need to save my strength!"

Pansy laughed derisively. "It's going to be awfully difficult when we all fulfill our dreams, all of us giving out orders at once."

"Mm-hmm," Petunia agreed with a mocking cheerfulness.

"Pardon me," huffed Primrose, "if you two are so jealous of the fact that I've become the one with talent for once."

And with that, the ferretmaid flounced out of the cottage, slamming the door behind her.

"Oooo, door-slamming!" laughed Pansy. "That's a new one!"

Ruri also laughed, but Petunia couldn't help but feel a little guilty. Primrose did have a point: it was always either Pansy's dancing skills or her own brain power that had been praised over the seasons, whereas Primrose had never gotten anything like that.

_But she could at least act a little more humble about it,_ the haremaid's mind argued.

* * *

Finally came the night of The Roaming Whimsical Player's rendition of the second act of the tale of the warriormaid Angelica.

Like the week before, the play was a huge success, met by thunderous clapping and cheering, "Angelica" standing center-stage, basking in all the adoration heaped upon her.

"A rousing success again!" Primrose proclaimed as she went back to her own section backstage, where her understudy, Winifred, once again sat alone, knitting away, not caring to watch the show.

Just then Merola came over, looking rather cross.

"Complements of Ferdinand the Terrific," the badger said sarcastically, "but would Miss Primrose go back for her cloak? You will keep leaving it in the wings!"

Primrose whirled on Merola, her face twisted with a sudden fury. "Let Winifred get it! It's the least she can do, sitting around here, day after day!"

"If everybeast had their rights, young un," shouted Merola angrily. "It'd be _you_ sitting around here day after day!"

"How can you even say that?!" yelled Primrose, hurt.

"What is all this appalling commotion?!" demanded Ferdinand, arriving on the scene.

"As you know, sir," Merola explained, composing herself. "Primrose has left her cloaks in the wings again. I _have_ reprehended her, but she refuses to go and fetch it."

_"Well fetch it yourself if you want it fetched!"_ shrieked Primrose, stamping her foot.

_"Primrose!"_

"That is _enough!"_ Ferdinand roared. He turned on Primrose, his face just as furious as hers'. "Rules are _not_ made for little maids to break! You there, what's y'name? Winifred?"

"Yes," the ottermaid said eagerly, standing up.

"You're Primrose's understudy, aren't you? Well, I think it's high time for you two to exchange your roles. From now on, Winifred will be playing Angelica, and Primrose, just consider yourself lucky that you're even still apart of all this."

* * *

Primrose was silent all the way back home, and refused to speak to anybeast. Merola didn't try to get anything out of her, and discouraged the others from trying to either.

"But what's happened?" Lily asked for the umpteenth time, casting another anxious look at the ferretmaid. "Everything looked like it was going so well and we were all waiting for you and Primrose to come out. . . ."

"I will explain it, but not here," Merola patiently but firmly said as she continued to herd Primrose home. The ferretmaid had a strange look on her face; tight-lipped, wide-eyed. One might have thought that she was angry, but in reality Primrose was forcing herself not to cry. Lily was very worried, but believed it would all be explained once they reached home.

But even when they did get home, Merola refused to say anything with Petunia and Pansy in the room, a fact that left both creatures furious.

"You two have been ragging on her all this time, you don't need to hear about this from me!" the badgermum snapped as she shooed them away.

"Here, you two," Dakar offered, "why don't you come outside with me, eh? Petunia, you can show Pansy that new sword trick I taught you."

Pansy, however, only scoffed and charged into their bedroom, where Primrose was getting ready for bed.

_"Well?_ What's happened? You can't hide it forever, not when we're aware of something going on!"

The ferret made no answer, opting to just slip her dress off. Petunia came in, closing the door behind her, thankful that the adults hadn't come after them.

"Primrose, just please tell us what's happened," the haremaid pleaded.

"Why don't you two just mind your own business?" was the mumbled answer.

"If something bad has happened to you, it makes it our business!" argued Pansy. "You're our sister, we're supposed to help each other!"

"You might as well tell us," Petunia sighed. "Pansy won't stop harping on it, and all I'm going to do is pester. Which is the same thing, of course, but the sooner you get on with telling us, the quicker-"

Suddenly Primrose threw a brush at them (which they quickly dodged), screaming. She then crumpled to the floor, breaking down in tears. Petunia hurried to her side, hugging her, while Pansy rubbed her head.

"No need to throw stuff, you almost got me."

* * *

"You mean to tell me that you've been replaced by that stone-faced otter just because you _left your cloak in the wings?!"_ cried Pansy indignantly. "Why that little- I ought to speak to Madam Breeze about it! She's Ferdinand's mother, she'll make him give the part back to you!"

"Pansy, please," said Petunia, who was still rocking Primrose. "That couldn't have been why he took the part away from you, is it, Prim?"

The ferretmaid was silent for awhile, before admitting, "I made an awful fuss about fetching it. I was horrible to everybeast about it; to Merola, to Winifred . . . I was even mean to the two of you. And I don't mean about the cloak, I've been awful this whole week. I was so selfish. . . ."

Pansy shrugged. "Well, I suppose you were."

"Pansy!" cried Petunia.

"It's alright," Primrose sighed. "All I could think about was proving myself. I wanted to show everybeast that I was talented, and not just a pretty face."

"But you _are_ talented!" Petunia assured her, giving her a squeeze.

"Sure you are!" Pansy agreed, flopping down next to her sister. "You know me. I'm blunt. And when I say somebeast has got talent, then I mean they've got talent!"

Primrose smiled in spite of herself. "Thanks, Pansy."

"You're welcome! But let this be a lesson to you: don't start acting all uppity just because you've discovered something you're good at!"

"You're like that all the time!" protested Petunia.

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

_"Am not!"_

_"Are too!"_ Petunia jumped up, grabbed a pillow off the bed and began hitting Pansy with it.

Squealing, Pansy dove out of the way, seizing another pillow and retaliating. Primrose, laughing, joined in, and soon all three were in a glorious rumble until Merola burst in, yelling at them to stop and go to bed – though the badger looked quite relieved that Primrose appeared to be better.

"Sorry, Merola," Petunia said, getting her nightshirt out.

"Yes, sorry," Pansy giggled, undressing.

Nodding, the badgermum started to go out when Primrose caught her by the arm.

"Wait, Merola . . . I'm sorry."

"And I'm sorry, too, young un. I didn't mean what I said. We were both angry, so we better let this be a lesson to both of us, then, eh?"

As soon as the door closed, Primrose turned to her sisters. "I want to make another vow."

"Another vow?" asked Pansy.

"Yes. Come on, all in a circle now."

The other two complied, piling their paws in the center. Primrose spoke aloud, saying,

"We three flowers vow

To use our gifts and talents

For the good and benefit

Of others, as well as ourselves.

We also vow never to let

Our pride get in the way,

That we will not let it

Cloud our better judgment,

And that we will always be

As humble as possible.

Amen."

"Amen?" asked the other two. "Why amen?"

"Well, why not?"

Pansy shrugged. "Well it looks like amen."

Petunia smiled. "Amen."


	11. The Second Audition

**Chapter 11**

The following week passed as quietly as possible. Although no longer the leading lady of the play of Angelica, Primrose was still the understudy, and needed to be able to stand in for Winifred in case the ottermaid was unable to perform that night. But the ferret could tell Winifred had every intention of performing that night.

Because she no longer cared to talk about what happened at rehearsal, Primrose found herself more interested in the going's on of her sisters:

Petunia took dancing lessons with Madam Breeze every other day, but because the old hare-lady was so keen on developing Pansy's own skill, lessons with Petunia were relatively short. But this suited the young hare fine, and she used her extra time for arithmetic problems from Ruri and helping out with housework. The other days, however, were devoted to sword-lessons with Dakar. Petunia was actually getting very good at it, though she was careful to be modest about it. Dakar was rather surprised at how quickly Petunia was in getting the knack of swordplay, but he still thought she had a long way to go.

As for Pansy, every day she went to have her private lessons with Madam, and every day she would come back more and more graceful than ever. But more than graceful was she, but also stronger, swifter, and more coordinated. It soon became apparent that Madam Breeze knew what she was talking about when Pansy would become a far more remarkable dancer than she ever was.

Then came the dreaded night when the third and final part of the play of Angelica would be put on. Vanna informed Primrose that Spiketipp, when he found out that she had been demoted, had changed his mind about making another 'chapter' with the play. That cheered her up some, but it still pained the ferretmaid that she wouldn't be going up there on stage tonight.

Like Winifred before her, Primrose had little desire to watch the play, and so opted to sit backstage and knit, trying not to let it hurt her every time the audience laughed or clapped. Of course, one thing that heartened her was that everybeast seemed disappointed when Ferdinand announced before the play began that Primrose "couldn't appear tonight" and that her part was being played by Winifred.

Finally, came that beautiful sound of chorusing applause, meaning that the play was over. Winifred came flouncing back out, looking very pleased with herself. Fortunately, however, Primrose's family came backstage to hurry her home - lest anything unpleasant happen between her and the ottermaid.

"So how was it?" Primrose asked as they walked home.

"You mean how was Winifred," corrected Pansy. "And let me tell you, she was horrible. Absolutely dreadful!"

"Pansy!" reprimanded Lily.

"Alright, she wasn't that bad," the squirrelmaid conceded.

"But the mere fact that she wasn't out sister up there, we didn't enjoy the play like the other times," put in Petunia.

"And I think the creatures of Noonvale would agree," said Merola, smiling at the ferretmaid.

Feeling much more heartened, Primrose actually found it in herself to swing her arms and sing along with her younger sisters as they headed home.

* * *

"Dakar," Lily called softly.

The male mouse, on his way to bed, turned and looked back at the mousemaid. Lily walked up to him, looking as though she were searching for the right words, until finally she said,

"I'm sorry."

Dakar furrowed his brow. "For what?"

"Two weeks ago, remember? I asked you about . . . about your past, and I wanted to let you know I'm sorry about it. I didn't mean to pry, I really didn't. Its taken me this long to apologize, too–"

"No," interrupted Dakar. "There's no need for you to apologize. I suppose in some way I'm glad you asked me about it."

"You . . . you are?" A smile slowly spread its way across the mousemaid's face.

"Yes. Sometimes . . . there are times when I think I would like to talk about them . . . to talk about her. . . ."

Lily stared up into Dakar's eyes, realizing just how close they really were–

"But then I think its better not to."

And with that, the warriormouse turned and went into his bedroom, closing the door on Lily, leaving her alone in the hallway.

* * *

The next few days passed almost just as quietly as the week before. Petunia went from sword-wielding to dancing to arithmetic, somehow managing to just barely keep up with it all, though at night she slept very soundly. Pansy also continued on with her lessons, and spent many hours learning new tricks and moves from Madam Breeze. Primrose spent most of her time alone, but she preferred it that way. It helped clear her head after all that she had been through.

But then one day, Vanna came knocking.

"Spiketipp has written another play," the squirrelmaid explained to the excited trio and Lily and Merola. "It's much like his Angelica play, only it's a bit longer, and this time, he wants not only Primrose to audition for a part, but also Petunia as well!"

Primrose had been squealing with excitement and hugging Merola, whereas Petunia suddenly looked pale. Her? On the stage? That could only mean trouble. . . .

* * *

"We must get some new dresses made," Primrose insisted. "It'll look better if Petunia and I dress alike."

"Or I could just not go," Petunia suggested hopefully, but Merola stomped on that immediately.

"Don't be silly, Petunia. You've been taking all these dancing lessons, its only natural you should apply them to the stage. And besides (no offense to you, Primrose), but I want you there to keep an eye on your sister, make sure that she doesn't get a bad attitude again."

"Yes," agreed Primrose, understanding. "Plus, after I left in such a disgraced manner, I need somebeast to lean on. And besides, Petunia, you might not even get a part."

* * *

And so, without much more argument, Primrose and Petunia, both clad in identical gowns of pink and white, headed back down to where the auditions were being held. There wasn't as big a crowd as there had been for Angelica, as these parts were only for minor characters.

But Petunia was a bundle of nerves anyhow: she had insisted that Dakar give her one final sword lesson before she went down to audition, but the haremaid had been so aggressive that she hit herself in the eye with her sword-pommel.

"I look dreadful," she whined, picturing her swollen eye in her brain as she didn't have a mirror handy.

"You look fine," insisted Merola. "Just walk about with confidence, and perhaps nobeast will notice."

* * *

"Little haremaid with the red eye," was what Ferdinand called Petunia during the audtions. "Come down to center-stage."

The poor haremaid did so, tripping as she did. Many of the other maidens laughed; Primrose glared at them, wishing she could sink her claws into their silly faces.

"What part are you auditioning for?"

"Myrtle, sir," Petunia replied.

Vanna suddenly appeared between Ferdinand and Spiketipp, whispering something to them. Petunia gulped. She feared they were criticizing the way she looked.

Finally Ferdinand looked up. "Whenever you're ready," he said in a businesslike tone, putting his footpaws up.

"W-would you like me to sing, o-or recite?"

The hare chuckled. "This isn't a musical, there will be no need to sing."

Again the maidens laughed. And again Primrose wished to harm them.

Petunia felt hot and out of place. She didn't belong here, this was all wrong. She looked back over her shoulder at her sister, who urged her on.

Taking a deep breath, the haremaid started reciting.

"F-flowers of the forest

Are bright in the s-spring,

W-wake with the dawn-"

"That's enough," interrupted Ferdinand.

"No!" shouted Primrose, standing forward. "You must let her finish!"

"I said 'that's enough'," growled Ferdinand through clenched teeth. "Because I've heard enough!"

Petunia hung her head.

"She's got the part."

Up back came Petunia's head.

Primrose gasped in elated surprise.

"She's got a decent accent, and I don't want to spend too much time on these auditions," Ferdinand explained. "Not only that," he added, arching his eyebrows. "But there are no other candidates for the part of Myrtle. You there, Primrose?"

The ferretmaid came and stood by Petunia.

"What part did you come to audition for?"

"Peach-blossom, sir."

"Well, no need to audition. You've got the part too. You've already proven yourself a capable actress."

Primrose gasped once again. Could this really be Ferdinand, the hare she had recently judged so harsh?

"Now be off with you! Before I change my mind."

Ah, now there was the old Ferdinand.

They hurried off the stage, giggling with relief and excitement, Merola and Vanna coming forward to congratulate them, when all of a sudden Winifred the otter came rushing up.

"Am I too late?" the ottermaid inquired anxiously. "My father and I were out boating when I heard about the auditions and couldn't get back until minutes ago. I just barely had time to change!"

Primrose looked Winifred up and down, realizing that she was quite right.

"Oh, I don't think you're too late," Vanna assured the otter. "Did you have any part in particular you wanted?"

"Yes. Myrtle."

The others became very quiet.

"They . . . they already chose me," Petunia choked.

Winifred stared wide-eyed at the hare.

"Th-they thought nobeast else was coming for that part!" she hastened to explain.

"Oh, Winifred, I'm so sorry," consoled Vanna. "Was there any other part you'd like to try out for? Maybe you could get a part as one of the dancing maidens!"

"I couldn't land a part as a dancing searat the way I look!" whined the ottermaid. "Look at me! There's another hole underneath my other arm!"

"You can borrow my dress," Petunia kindly offered. "Or Primrose's." She looked at her sister, suddenly remembering the bad blood between Primrose and Winifred. "Can't she?" she asked weakly.

Primrose seemed to struggle with herself for a moment before forcing a smile and nodding. But it was apparent that neither female relished the idea of sharing clothes.

* * *

"The trouble with you, Petunia," Pansy said later once the others returned home. "Is that you are a martyr to your conscience."

"The trouble with you, Pansy," Lily put in. "Is that you haven't got one."

Pansy only smirked and struck a pose. "Look, this is Winifred in the play. 'I'm the best all-round-talented actress in the bunch, even though I have an _enormous_ bottom, and will spend most of the play behind a tree.'"

The others laughed, even Lily. "Pansy, you are a heartless monster!"

"You _noticed!"_ replied Pansy, pretending to be flattered.

Lily winked. "I raised you. I notice everything."


	12. That Odious Stench

**Chapter 12**

It was rehearsal. Ferdinand the Terrific stood on stage, clad in the regalia of a king, dramatically speaking his intended lines.

"Hark! What is that? Ah, tis the sound none other than Lady Holly! I must away, lest she catch me!"

And with that, the hare flung himself behind one of the fake trees, just as Vanna, swathed in cobweb-like robes, pranced onto stage, calling out, "Come my minions, come, come! No time to waste! Are you all there, Peach-Blossom, Dewdrop, Butterfly, and Myrtle?"

"Peach-Blossom", alias Primrose, came gliding out, wearing garb similar to Vanna, with a garland of pink blossoms on her head and around her waist and wrists.

Spiketipp, who was watching his play in the audience, smiled at the sight of her. He always thought she looked so lovely; it had been her beauty that inspired him to write the play of Angelica. He had named the heroine "Angelica" for Primrose's angelic beauty.

The hedgehog had been pleased when Ferdinand agreed to give the part to Primrose, but he hadn't been blind to the ferretmaid's bad behavior that fateful night. Yet he was willing to forgive her. After all, nobeast was perfect. And Spiketipp still thought Ferdinand had been too harsh with her; he was still smarting from the fact that Primrose didn't get to finish the series as Angelica.

But that was what this play was for: to give Primrose another chance. Spiketipp had made certain to make the role intended for Primrose a relatively minor one, that way she wouldn't get puffed up again. Besides, she was doing a lovely job so far.

"Ready!" the ferretmaid called softly to Vanna, alias "Lady Holly", a broad smile about her pretty face.

"Dewdrop" and "Butterfly", two little volemaids who had been cast for the parts, came out after Primrose, clad in pale blue and sunny yellow. One after the other, they chirped, "And I!"

Finally came "Myrtle", alias Petunia, whose grace was the least and her costume the worst: a muted watery green that looked far more suited for an otter, and already torn in one of the seams. One of the squirrelmaids said they'd fix it after rehearsal.

"And I," the haremaid said dully.

Ferdinand suddenly appeared from behind the "tree." He wasn't supposed to do that yet, nor did he look happy.

"Would you mind saying that line again, miss?" he asked, coming out of character.

Petunia obliged. "And I."

"Again."

The haremaid frowned but nonetheless complied. "And I."

The male hare heaved a rough sigh. _"Again."_

Petunia looked from side to side. What did he want from her?

"And – I?"

Many of the cast laughed. Ferdinand, however, didn't. He came out on stage and marched straight up to Petunia, looking rather cross.

"Am I asking you to put out the sun with your bare paws, missy? All I ask is that you say your line in a _light, happy tone,_ just as the other three did! Come on now!"

Petunia didn't like being talked to like that, nor was she at all happy about the position she was in. Which was why it didn't seem possible for her to speak in a "light, happy tone." Nevertheless, she tried.

And failed.

Ferdinand slapped his paw to his forehead. "This is no time for jokes. If your work doesn't improve, young lady, I shall take the part away!"

And with that, the pompous hare twirled off the stage.

* * *

"I don't care if he takes the part away! I _want_ him to take it away!" Petunia sobbed on the way home.

"Don't be ridiculous, I'll help you," Primrose assured her, squeezing her shoulders.

"I can't be helped, I'm hopeless. I feel so stupid up there on the stage."

"What do you mean you feel stupid?"

"I mean what I say! What else could I possibly mean?!"

"But you don't _have_ to feel stupid. Your part is easy, all you have are a few lines, and they only consist of a few words. Characters like yours are fun to play; they practically an audience member that gets to be right in the middle of the fun."

"It's no use. I hate dancing, I hate acting, I hate being up on a stage. They should just give the part to Winifred, she'd be better at it-"

"No! She wouldn't be better-"

"Oh Primrose, I don't care if the two of you don't get along! You only want me to stay just so Winifred won't get what she wants!"

"That's not-"

_"Yes it is!"_ Petunia shouted, whirling on her sister. "Do you think you're the only one who knows what they want to do with their lives?!"

"You don't have to give up on being a Long Patroller!" Primrose retorted angrily. "You're only fourteen seasons; they won't accept you, you're too young!"

Petunia glared, the whites of her eyes turning pink. "Primrose," she hissed. "There are several reasons why I shouldn't be in this play. One: I'm bad at it. Two: it'll make me miss all the lessons I have with Dakar in order to prepare myself for the Long Patrol, and three: I won't help you in getting any revenge on Winifred. It wasn't her fault that Ferdinand took the part of Angelica away from you, you did that on your own!"

Without another word, Petunia ran all the way back to the cottage, leaving Primrose with angry tears stinging the backs of her eyes.

* * *

If the play of Angelica had been a success, Spiketipp's second play was even better. Again he wrote more sequels, and, since Primrose never acted conceited or disorderly (and therefore wasn't kicked out), wrote more than the Angelica series had.

Primrose enjoyed being in the play, but not as much as she would have if Petunia was there on stage with her, and not Winifred. But the haremaid had spoken to Lily and Merola, who had spoken to Ferdinand and Vanna, who then went straight to Winifred, who immediately accepted the role she coveted so much. The ottermaid was very pleased that once again fortune had smiled on her to allow her on the stage.

At first everybeast feared some unwanted tension between the two maids, but as the rehearsals and plays went on, they realized that their worries were unfounded. Both Primrose and Winifred were very serious about acting, plus they had both gotten the roles they wanted, so aside from the fact they had to share stage-time with each other, they were satisfied with how things were.

However, a disturbance did happen within the troupe, but it wasn't caused by Primrose and Winifred.

Lily and Merola had come down to fetch Primrose and Pansy home, when their nostrils were assaulted by the most strange and foul smell.

"Oh, _what_ is that _odious_ stench?!" cried Merola, pinching her nose.

The two females then noticed a gathering around a certain tent. Primrose was among those there, and when she saw her guardians, she hurried towards them.

"There's something the matter with Vanna, but she won't come out of her tent, nor will she let anybeast in!"

Concerned and curious, Lily and Merola came over to the tent. The badger parted the way for Lily, who called out gently, "Vanna? It's me, Lily. Are you alright? What is that smell?"

"It's nothing," the squirrelmaid's voice replied with forced cheerfulness. "It's just my new perfume is all! Doesn't it smell lovely?"

"Hardly," Merola snorted. "No perfume ought to smell like that. Smells like burnt fur!"

There was a silence, and when the squirrelmaid answered, there was a whimper to her tone: "It's me."

"Oh dear!" cried Lily. "Vanna, I'm coming in."

Without waiting for a response, the mousemaid parted the tent flaps – and beheld Vanna, sitting huddled on the ground with bits of her pelt gone. Lily gaped for a moment, and then took notice of the bowls scattered around. All of them were filled with what looked like dyes.

"Merola," the mousemaid called over her shoulder. "We're going to need soft soap in here. And hurry."

* * *

"There we go," Lily consoled as she helped Vanna dry off. "That's stopped it falling out. Fortunately there's not much gone, though most of it's from your tail."

"My tail?" the squirrelmaid turned and stared at herself in the mirror, gripping her precious brush in her paws.

Vanna turned this way and that, her eyes roving all over her reflection's body – and then broke down into snorts and snickers. Lily laughed too, though not as hard as Vanna.

"Well, that serves me right, trying to turn the seasons back," the squirrelmaid said good-naturedly as she slumped down.

"Turn the seasons back?" questioned Lily. "Why would you want to do that?"

"I've reached that dreaded point," explained Vanna, reaching for a bottle of wine. "Where all the males have stopped looking at me. They prefer to look at young, fresh faces, like your Primrose."

Lily was a bit taken aback. She had always found Vanna beautiful, and personally wondered that any male could stop looking at her. As for Primrose, the mousemaid was suddenly worried at the thought that _any_ male was looking at her.

"I enter a room," the squirrelmaid went on, sipping some wine, "and I make no difference whatsoever."

Lily shrugged. "I suppose I know what that's like. I was never very pretty."

Vanna snorted. "You? Never very pretty? Please." She leaned back, sighing wistfully. "Ah, it was all so different when I was younger. So many males would look at me then, and they'd all wear an expression; a certain expression filled with hope. And I used to feel it too."

"Don't you anymore?"

The squirrelmaid looked up at the mousemaid, her face changed. Vanna's eyes darted around for a moment before beckoning to Lily, who came closer.

"Well," the squirrelmaid whispered. "The other day, I _did_ get a flicker of hope. It was the first, _tiniest_ flicker of hope I've had in ages . . . and the next thing I knew, I was right here with a bottle of damson wine in my paw."

"Where did it come from?"

"From Ferdinand's private stock, but don't tell him that."

"No, I mean the hope. Where did that come from?"

"Oh!" the squirrelmaid giggled and blushed. "It's a malebeast that I've known for ages. He's a very shy chap, but he has the most _enchanting_ eyes I've ever seen. He just looked at me with those eyes and I just thought he might ask me something. . . ."

"Well good luck!" Lily smiled, taking the wine bottle and taking a swig herself. She belched, and the two females rolled over laughing.


	13. The Hole

**Much Ado About Nonny: **YAY! You reviewed! YAY! Thank you so much! :D (sprinkles Nonny with all the things she likes) Oh, and by the by, I am actually a Ginny fanboy, not a Hermione fanboy. I find Hermione very annoying and slightly conceited. I do, however, think Emma Watson has beauty that can _not_ be overrated. ...and I still can't believe you like Elijah Wood. Sure, he's got those big blue eyes, but that _neck_... its disproportionately thick and freaky. Yeach! ...oh well, to each his own. ANYway, thank you for your input and for reviewing for each chapter; that was very considerate of you. :)

Well, read on, and God bless (that goes for the rest of you too)!

* * *

**Chapter 13**

Petunia was in a significantly better mood ever since she quit the play. Though some part of her felt bad for the way she treated Primrose, she knew it was all for the best, and somebeast needed to point out to Primrose that she was being petty about Winifred.

"It's a shame you didn't stay in the play," Dakar said as the two of them crossed swords just outside the valley. "I would've liked to have seen you up there."

"No you wouldn't have. It would've been foul, me being up there. Acting just isn't for me, and besides, Winifred wanted so much more than I did, and she was more suited for the part, and she's doing a much better job than I could've done in a thousand seasons. Plus it'll also give Primrose a chance to make amends with her. Besides, I'd much rather be here with you than at that camp. Crossing swords with you is far more appealing than having Ferdinand tell me how to say just two words. Oh, sorry, did I get you?"

"No, it's just my sleeve. Hm, you're getting better."

"Thank you," Petunia beamed.

"Therefore I think I should be a little harder," Dakar proclaimed and made such fast moves that the haremaid was hard-put to defend herself.

But Petunia didn't mind. In fact, she liked being challenged when it came to swordplay.

* * *

"What was wrong with her?" Primrose asked as she, Lily, Merola, and Pansy walked home.

"With who?" Pansy asked, who had been having more lessons from Madam.

"Vanna," the ferret replied. "There was something wrong with her. So, Lily? What was going on with her? Is she sick?"

"No," the mousemaid replied.

"Well then why all the fuss?" Pansy wanted to know.

"She _has_ to be sick," argued Primrose. "Why else would she have trapped herself in her tent like that? She wouldn't let any of us see her!"

"It's nothing you need to worry yourself over," Lily assured her. "She's going to be perfectly alright, she just had a bit of a shock and needed to calm down."

"Ferdinand was worried that she might not be alright to continue on with the plays," Primrose informed them.

"Oh, that Ferdinand!" growled Merola. "More concerned with his play than his own creatures! Don't you let me catch the either of you acting like that!" she added to Primrose and Pansy.

"Yes, Merola," the two replied.

"Oh, I'm sure he was concerned about her," Lily put in. "He probably started worrying about the play after he was convinced she was alright."

Merola snorted.

* * *

Vanna, as it turned out, was able to go on with the plays. Though there had to be some change to her costume: the fabric became longer and wispier, and several pink ribbons were tied about her tail to hide its thinness.

She never revealed the name of the male to Lily, but the mousemaid thought it better than to pry. She figured she had done enough prying into Dakar's business.

But Lily had little time to ponder even if she did want to pry. Too much was going around her: Primrose continued to excel in the plays written by Spiketipp; Petunia was getting better and better at her lessons with Dakar; and Pansy became more and more and still more fluid a dancer. Naturally, all three wanted to show off to Lily, as she was the only mother they ever knew.

Aside from keeping the house clean, the firewood coming, and the meals cooking, Lily found herself having to see three different talent acts a day. The mousemaid became very thankful for Merola, who was more than a help, and even suggested that the maids wait until the evenings to show their new things to Lily.

"Yes!" said Primrose excitedly. "It would be like our own personal play!"

Pansy agreed; she hadn't been in any of Spiketipp's plays yet, and was steadily getting more impatient for when the hedgehog would do another musical.

Petunia, on the other paw, at first didn't take to the idea, but after awhile agreed, as she wouldn't be required to do any acting. She would only be showing her family members something that she had learned.

Soon the evenings at the cottage became a festive affair, and it was on one of these nights that Merola revealed a talent of her own: lancing.

"Oh yes," the badgermum said as she stood in front of them, holding a long metal pole that she had found in Uncle Markas's weapon-filled shed. "I was quite the expert at plying the staff in my summer seasons. No need to look so alarmed, Lily. There's no point on this rod, so there's no chance I'll stab anybeast. It's completely harmless – WHOA!"

While she had been speaking, the badger had been stepping this way and that, balancing the pole, but she hadn't taken notice of the small footstool. Fortunately, Merola only stumbled a bit, so she wasn't injured in any way. However, as she stumbled, the badger had stuck out her spear-arm sharply. Old as she was, Merola was still plenty strong, and the long metal rod was plenty thick. Pansy had just enough time to dive out of the way for the pole to crash through the cottage wall.

For a moment, they all simply sat and stared at what had been done.

Then Pansy flew into a storm of giggles, just as her sisters, and eventually Lily, and even Merola, did.

"Oh dear," chuckled Lily, wiping her eyes as she went to go inspect the damage.

Merola pulled the pole out, revealing a rather sizable hole. That only made the three maids laugh harder.

"I think," chortled Lily, "that you better save those kinds of feats for outside, Merola."

The huge badger also laughed, though she had the sense to ask how they were going to fix it.

"Maybe we don't have to fix it," Primrose said, getting down next to Lily. "This hole looks big enough, it could be a window or something. Look." The ferretmaid stuck her head out the hole.

Pansy giggled some more. "It looks as though you haven't got a head on, Prim!"

The ferret made no reply, and Lily and Petunia began to notice that Primrose was keeping her head in the hole for a rather long time.

"Primrose?" Lily said, placing a paw on the ferret's back.

_"I'm stuck!"_ came the shrieking reply.

Pansy went into another fit of laughter, pounding the floor with her fist. The others laughed too, though not as wildly.

"Come on," said Lily. "You can't have gotten stuck–"

"But I did!" screamed Primrose. Though she sounded a little scared and irritated, she couldn't hide the laughter in her voice.

"Oh dear." Lily was now very concerned. "Here, Merola, why don't you help-?"

The badgermum was already across the room and tugging experimentally on the ferret's footpaws. This only resulted in pained yowls from Primrose.

"Hmm," mumbled Merola. "Well, I wouldn't risk pulling on her. Her neck could break."

"Honestly, Primrose," Pansy said, getting a hold of herself. "How could you be so stupid as to put your whole head inside a hole?" The squirrelmaid then laughed a bit at the weak pun she made.

"I didn't do it on purpose!" Primrose retorted, her voice muffled from it being outside.

"Well, only a ferret could've gotten herself into a situation like this, not like us squirrels," Pansy said loftily, pinching her sister.

The ferret's footpaw shot out, kicking Pansy hard in the shin.

"OW! She kicked me! Now I'll limp forever and never dance again! Let's leave her like that, I say!" the squirrelmaid raged in a comic fashion.

"Now that's enough!" shouted Merola. "Where's Dakar? Isn't he home yet? Maybe he can help think of something."

* * *

Primrose was thankful that the weather was warm outside, otherwise she knew her head would be freezing right now. She never felt so embarrassed in all her life, and yet she couldn't stop herself from laughing. She just hoped she could get out of this before anybeast saw her and told everybeast in Noonvale. Ugh, that would be _awful!_

Just then a small light caught her eye. Looking up, Primrose saw that it was a lantern of some kind.

_Uh oh,_ she thought. _Please just be Dakar, please just be Dakar, please just be Dakar, Dakar can be trusted not to say anything about this. . . ._

As the figure came closer, the ferretmaid saw that her prayers had been answered. On the inside of the cottage, Petunia had looked out the window when Merola asked where Dakar was. She too saw the warriormouse, and went outside to explain the situation to him.

"Ahoy there, Petunia!" Dakar called cheerfully.

"Hello, listen," the haremaid said, getting right to business. "She's gotten her head stuck in a hole in the side of the house and we don't know what to, would you come help us, please?"

As she spoke, Petunia led Dakar around the house to where Primrose's head was. Confused though he was, the mousewarrior didn't ask questions until he saw the head protruding from the cottage wall.

"Who's this?" the mousewarrior asked, walking up to her with raised eyebrows.

"Primrose," the ferret answered miserably, though there was still a smile in her voice.

Dakar lifted his lantern higher, and beheld Primrose's face. Bathed in the candlelight, the ferretmaid's fur was golden and her eyes were two pools of glittering black water. There was a wavering smile about her delicate features, and tears of mirth made two steady lines down her cheeks. The tears reflected the light from Dakar's lantern, making it seem as though Primrose's face sparkled and glowed.

It was in that moment that Petunia witnessed something most strange.

First of all, Dakar's face changed. But the haremaid couldn't put into words just how it changed. There was a flicker and a slight twitch, perhaps, but other than that, any description of change seemed futile.

The warrior suddenly called to Merola, "Make more holes around her, that way we can just tear her out."

"Are you sure?" the badger replied.

"Yes, I'm sure. You've already tried pulling her out, haven't you?"

"Well, yes–"

"Then make more holes! It's the only way. Here," he added to Primrose, placing his paws around her head. "I'll keep any splinters sticking you, alright? Petunia, you might want to stand back."

The haremaid did so, watching as Dakar stood there with his paws wrapped around her sister's head, their faces just inches away from each other.

_Wham!_

The metal pole appeared just above Primrose's head. She and Dakar squeezed their eyes shut but kept still.

_Wham!_

The pole appeared on the right side.

_Wham!_

The pole broke through on the left side, and the wood around Primrose's head gave way. Dakar seized the wood and cast it aside while the ferretmaid sat up, massaging her neck.

"Yaaay!" said Lily and Pansy, clapping their paws.

Merola patted Primrose firmly on the back, nodding to Dakar. "Well done, Mr. Dakar, for such quick thinking."

Primrose smiled at the mouse. "Yes, thank you so much."

Dakar returned the smile and bowed. He then turned to Petunia, offering his arm. "Shall we go inside now?"

Relieved though she was that Primrose was free and everybeast was alright, the haremaid spent much of the night trying to figure out what had been about the change in Dakar's face when he looked at Primrose.

Though fourteen, the haremaid had never been given overmuch to thinking of young males and how they looked at young females. She never really had the time nor the desire, as her mind had been filled with tales of brave warrior-hares and not much else. Therefore it was hard for her to understand what this was all about.

Why would he look at her like that? He had never looked at her like that before. . . .

_Or had he?_

Petunia then began to rack her brains, trying to think of any other time Dakar had looked that way at her sister . . . but slowly came to realize that Dakar had never really looked at Primrose before.

When he first came to them, it had been she and Pansy who had piled him with questions, and it had been Lily and Merola who had fussed over him. Primrose hadn't done much of either of those things. And ever since that night, Dakar had been preoccupied either with helping Petunia with her sword lessons or helping Lily and Merola out around the house. Sometimes he would take Pansy to bed and tuck her in.

So really, on the whole, Primrose was the one family member that Dakar had never really had any interaction with. Yes, he had seen her on the stage, but that was from a distance. This evening had really been the first time Dakar had seen Primrose up-close.

Somehow that made things better, and Petunia felt herself relaxing. So that was it: Dakar was simply giving the reaction that he should've given on his first night here. But due to the circumstances, the reaction arrived a little late.

But oh well. It happened now, and Petunia needn't worry about it anymore.

The haremaid would have worried, though, if she had been told, as Lily had, about how several males were looking at Primrose, and they showed no signs of stopping.

* * *

**Disclaimer:** The part with Primrose with her head stuck in the wall, that wasn't in the book nor the movie "Ballet Shoes". It was actually from a scene in the book "How Green Was My Valley."

But my, things are getting a little wacky around here, aren't they?


	14. Rehearsal

**Chapter 14**

The final sequel for Spiketipp's plays came at last, and Primrose gave a sigh of relief mingled with sadness.

Tired though she was at having to be around Winifred and put up with Ferdinand's blustering, the ferretmaid felt suddenly discontent that she had no more rehearsals to go to, and no more plays to put on. Besides, there had been other creatures to work with on the plays: Vanna was great fun to be around with. The squirrelmaid showed Primrose several different ways to wear ribbons or how to alter one's dress at a moment's notice. And then there was Rogak, who was already good company, what with his rugged good looks and friendly smile. Primrose secretly enjoyed 'accidentally' brushing up against him whenever she passed by him either on the stage or during rehearsals.

It had all been so much amazing fun while it lasted, and she hoped Spiketipp would come up with another series very soon.

* * *

Spiketipp, in fact, was busily writing another line of plays, all of them with the intent of having Primrose as the leading lady again. He felt assured that she wouldn't become conceited because of it like last time. However, the hedgehog was having some trouble with his third series. Perhaps he had overtired himself from writing the last series.

The last two series had been quite whimsical and fantasy-like, very light-hearted and full of humor. Spiketipp suddenly supposed he was simply bored with the category he had been writing his plays under. So he tried writing a series that was more serious, darker, and suspenseful. And he found himself liking it very much.

"Writing another play?"

The hedgehog looked up, startled, and saw Rogak the otter standing over him. "Oh, yes, actually."

Rogak sighed and sat down next to his friend, though he was careful not to get prickled. "I was hoping you'd take a break and let us all breathe for awhile. You're a good writer and I do enjoy the characters you make for me, but really, we just pulled ten weeks of plays and rehearsals! The troupe would really like a break!"

"Oh, I suppose so," Spiketipp admitted. "But I just can't seem to get myself to stop."

"That's because you're so anxious to get into the good graces of Miss Primrose."

This unexpected comment caused the hedgehog to sputter so hard that his spines jingled. Rogak scooted away further.

"Wh-what are you talking about?!" Spiketipp demanded.

"Oh, come off it, matey. I've seen the way you look at 'er. Hah, everybeast in the entire troupe notices."

"Is it that obvious?" the hedgehog inquired sheepishly.

"'Fraid so," Rogak nodded, smiling pityingly. "Ah, but don't feel bad about it. In fact, I'd call you crazy if you didn't look at her like that. She's a beauty alright. I've found myself ogling at her sometimes, though I'm not proud to say it."

Feeling a little better, Spiketipp confessed, "But she has been a great inspiration. I started writing that Angelica play when I saw her dancing. From then on, everything just came. It was almost as if I was meant to write plays for her."

"I wouldn't disagree with you on that," Rogak conceded. "Those plays were your best ones. By the way, what do you have in the way of what you're writing now?"

"Oh, I've just barely started. And besides, it's not anything like the other two. It's much more of a suspense play, I suppose. Very dark and sad. I doubt its any good."

"Well, let me read it and see."

* * *

Lily opened a window and leaned out, peering into the woods where she saw Primrose, Petunia, and Pansy playing.

"What are you doing?" the mousemaid called.

All three maidens were decked out in strange necklaces, bracelets, and tattered robes that they had found in Uncle Markas's shed. They looked a picture of barbaric vermin.

"We've just caught an intruder on our land!" Primrose called back, seizing Pansy.

"We're going to tie her to a tree and cut off her tail!" shouted Petunia, also taking hold of her sister.

The squirrelmaid squealed and kicked and laughed herself silly, yelling all the horrible things she'd do to them in the near future.

Lily shook her head, chuckling, and shut the window. Just as she did, Dakar came in through the door.

"Oh hello," the mousemaid smiled.

"Hello," he replied. "Where's Primrose?"

"Outside. She and Petunia are going to cut Pansy's tail off after they tie her to a tree."

Dakar blinked. "What?"

Lily laughed. "I'm only joking. They're out in the woods playing. What do you want with Primrose anyway?"

"It's not me, actually. It's Spiketipp."

"Oh dear." Lily put the kettle over the fire. "Hasn't that hedgehog written enough plays already?"

"He's actually written only two," said Dakar. "He just added onto them, making them longer. A very clever idea, I think. I never met a troupe that did that."

Lily shook her head again, sitting down at the table. "Well, what sort of a play is it?"

"Very different from the other two," the mousewarrior explained, also sitting down. "He wanted to know if she'd be interested to play the heroine of a dark, suspense play."

Lily arched an eyebrow. "Well, I don't know if Primrose would like that or not."

"Neither do I, but I told him I'd ask her about it."

The mousemaid suddenly realized something. "Why did he ask you? Usually he just sends over Vanna."

"Oh, I was passing by and he saw me, and thought it more efficient to just have me deliver the message instead."

"Oh, I see," Lily said, although she couldn't help wondering, what was Dakar doing around the troupe's camp anyway? But she knew that that would be prying, and she didn't want to do that anymore.

* * *

Spiketipp had given some of the play to Dakar for Primrose to read, and now the ferretmaid pored all over it.

"Well? What do you think?" Dakar asked after awhile.

"Well, I don't know what to think," Primrose replied, setting the papers down. "It certainly looks like an interesting play, but I've never done anything like this before."

"You hadn't done any acting at all before you were Angelica," Pansy pointed out. "I say take it. I was getting a little tired of all the funny plays. I'd like to see a play like this."

"Oh no you won't," Lily said. "I'm not having you waking in the middle of the night with bad dreams."

"Since when have _I_ had a bad dream?" demanded Pansy. "Never, thank you very much! I know that everything going up on stage is all pretend, so it won't scare me in the least bit!"

"So will you?" Dakar asked Primrose.

"Oh . . . why not? It might be fun."

* * *

It turned out not to be as much fun as Primrose would have liked. Because it was a serious play, Ferdinand demanded a serious air around the camp, saying that it would strengthen their performances on the stage.

Primrose supposed she could understand that, but still, it was very different from the other two plays. This time she was playing a maiden whose dibbun-hood friend was in some sort of trouble. The town Primrose's character lived in was under a siege of some sort, with some sort of monster stalking innocent creatures who dared wander the streets alone.

The ferretmaid had some trouble getting the right emotion for some of the scenes. It was easy for Primrose to smile and laugh, but to show passionate anger or weep hysterically, that was a different story. Ferdinand was quickly losing patience, but it was Spiketipp who ended up helping Primrose.

It had started off rehearsing a scene between Primrose and Rogak. Rogak was playing a warrior about to go off and fight whatever creature was out there.

"Be strong," he said her, holding her paws, gazing intently into her eyes.

"I will try."

"Not 'I will try'," the otter gave her paws a little shake, "but 'I will.'"

"I will."

"You will what?"

Primrose and Rogak turned to look at Ferdinand, coming forward, looking irritated (as always).

"You will what, Primrose?" the hare demanded. "Bake him a cake? Read him a flippin' story? Go down the bally river with 'im? Your friend, your best friend from your dibbun days, is going out into the world in an effort to save the village you both have grown up in, and there's very little chance of his survival, nor of his success, and you stand there like a little wooden dummy!"

Primrose didn't like being called a dummy, but some part of her knew he had a point.

"Look," Ferdinand sighed. "Just remember what I described to you about this scene, and try to apply it to your acting, eh? Now come along. Let's take it from the top."

* * *

"I will try," Primrose replied to Rogak's request.

"Not 'I will try'," the otter said, gripping her paws and staring at her with blazing dark eyes. "But 'I will.'"

"I will."

"Let's try that again," Ferdinand called, his arms crossed.

* * *

"I will."

"No, _no,_ NO!" roared Ferdinand, throwing the script down and yanking on his ears.

Primrose would've laughed, except she was feeling so terrible and frustrated. Plus she was also terrified that he would take the part away from her again, and then the news would spread like wildfire around Noonvale–

"Here, Ferdy, let me talk to her."

The ferretmaid suddenly felt a tremor of relief pass through her as Spiketipp led her away. The hedgehog turned and looked at her with steady brown eyes.

"What's wrong? Is there something on your mind?"

"No," Primrose replied.

"Are you sure?"

"Really, I'm sure."

"Well, then, what's the problem? You were doing so well, and now. . . ."

"Well I've never done this before! I don't know how to act like this! I don't understand how this character could be feeling, I've never been through something like–"

"But you've never been a traveling warriormaid before," Spiketipp argued. "Nor have you ever been a fay-being before."

"But those were easy to imagine," Primrose argued back. "Besides, the way how the plays were, they were like . . . like a game, almost. My sisters and I used to pretend to be those things when we were little. We never pretended to be trapped in a village that's under siege by a monster."

"Ah, good point. But I should tell you something about the rest of the cast: they haven't either. Did you notice how Rogak looked when you were doing the scene with him just now?"

"Yes. . . ."

"Well, how did he look?"

"He looked . . . I don't know. He looked . . . very intense. Like . . . like he was going to his death."

"Exactly! And Rogak has never had to do that before, and yet he made you think he was doing just that, didn't he?"

The ferretmaid nodded mutely.

"Would you like to know how he did that?" Spiketipp asked, though he didn't wait for a reply. "It's a trick used by all actors: think of something that's happened to you that's similar to what the play's scene is about."

"But there's nothing that's happened to me like that–"

"It doesn't have to be exactly like this, it could be anything! Haven't you ever felt scared or sad or despairing? Have you ever felt like everything was working against you, that nothing you did mattered in the world?"

Primrose blinked . . . and thought. She thought of how when she was little, sometimes she'd wake up at night, and be certain that there was something outside her window; she thought of how hurt she felt when the part of Angelica had been taken from her, how humiliated she'd been; she thought of the story of her parents, how their tribe had been attacked by river-rats, and she had just been a baby then.

"Yes," she answered softly, hesitantly.

"Well then just think of something like that, and go on with the scene."

"But . . . what if it doesn't work? What if nothing I remember helps me?"

"If that doesn't work, then I suggest you try thinking of something that _would_ scare you."

* * *

Rogak took Primrose's paws in his. He looked deeply into her eyes.

"Be strong," he told her, with a voice soft yet firm.

Primrose stared back at him for a moment, and a single pearl-like tear dropped from her eye.

"I will try," she said, a tremor in her voice.

Rogak suddenly placed his right paw on her cheek. "Not 'I will try'," he said. "But 'I will.'"

"I will," Primrose whispered, two more tears falling down her cheeks as she tried to smile.

There was silence.

Then Ferdinand began to clap. And clap. And clap. And clap.

"Well done!" the hare said, his own eyes watering. "Well done, jolly nifty job, young maid!"

The rest of the cast joined in, genuinely impressed with Primrose's acting. Rogak grinned, squeezing the paw he was already holding while his other paw clapped her on the back.

Spiketipp hurried over, beaming excitedly. "You did it! You did it, Primrose, you did it!"

Primrose gasped for air, her features wreathed in a smile. "I took the advice you gave me. I thought about my sisters, and if they went away from here. . . ."

"Wonderful job, Primrose, wonderful," was all the hedgehog could say.

"Alright then!" Ferdinand suddenly shouted. "Stir your stumps, we've got a play to get on! Let's rehearse the next scene, now! Jump to it!"

Rogak and Spiketipp congratulated Primrose one more time before hurrying to their places for the next scene.

The ferretmaid, however, remained where she was for a moment. She was relieved that she had finally done the scene correctly, but also . . . she felt alive. She suddenly recalled how Pansy had described what dancing was like to her, and Primrose suddenly understood. Right now, she had done more than make believe . . . she had become another creature. . . .

_"Primrose!"_ barked Ferdinand. "I'm glad that you're doing better but please! We're doing the next scene!"

"Oh, right! Sorry!" Grinning, the ferretmaid hurried to her place, suddenly looking forward to this play.


	15. The Kiss

**Chapter 15**

Instead of one week, it took two weeks to rehearse the new play, mainly because practically everything had to be near-perfect. Primrose didn't mind, though. She understood this, and was glad for the extra rehearsal. She didn't want mess up on her first serious play.

Not only that, but Juniper, Noonvale's patriarch, had announced that the night after the play, there would be a ball in celebration of the good harvest they'd had. Primrose, being almost sixteen seasons, was naturally allowed to go, but the same could not be said for Pansy.

"Why can't I go?!" the young squirrelmaid raged. "It's a ball, and balls are where creatures dance, and dancing is what I do best! Please, why can't I go?!"

"Because you're still too young to be staying up so late," stated Merola.

"I'm almost thirteen!" shrieked Pansy. "I can't be too young to go to a ball!"

"Alright then, how about this: its not the type of dancing you'd enjoy."

"What do you mean, the type of dancing I'd not enjoy?" the squirrelmaid demanded. "Dancing is my life! I like all manner of dancing-!"

"Even the kind where you're supposed to dance with a partner? A _male_ partner?"

Suddenly a vivid image of herself being jerked around the dance-floor by a boorish male squirrel who frequently kept on treading on her toes. . . .

"Alright, you made your point. I won't go."

Merola smirked, thankful that Pansy hadn't yet developed an interest in males yet.

Petunia had not cared to go to the ball either. "It's not for me. I'd no doubt kick my partner in the shins while we were dancing, if I didn't find some way of tripping him up while we walked out to the dance-floor."

And so the haremaid was not made to go, much to her relief.

"Besides," said Merola. "Keeping an eye on two maidens will be much easier than four."

"Four?" questioned Lily. "We only have three maidens-"

"Don't forget to count yourself, missy!" Merola countered, a crafty gleam in her eye. "You're going to that ball too, and I'm not taking 'no' for an answer!"

_"What?_ Oh don't be silly, Merola! I'm not going to go dance the night away while you sit at home-"

"I'll not be sitting at home," stated Merola matter-of-factly. "I just said I'd be keeping an eye on two maidens, didn't I?"

"But-"

"No buts! And besides, we can trust Petunia and Pansy to stay home by themselves. They can't get into too much trouble, and Petunia has been getting so good with her sword lessons that she'll be able to defend herself if any anybeast comes accosting them. As for Pansy, hah, I'd like to see anybeast try to subdue her!"

Both hare- and squirrelmaid swelled with pride.

Lily cast a look at them, still doubtful. "Well, I don't know. . . ."

"Oh, come on, Lily," wheedled Primrose. "You hardly ever get to do anything fun, do something for yourself for a change!"

"Yes, go on!" urged Petunia and Pansy. "We'll be alright, we can take care of ourselves! You've done so much for us, its only natural we should do something for you!"

"Well," Lily said, throwing up her paws. "If you all insist!"

The others cheered and hugged the mousemaid.

* * *

"Come on, now, Prim, hold still," Lily said as she helped the ferretmaid into her new dress.

It was the evening before the night the new play would be put on. The night after that would be Primrose's first ball, which compelled Merola to sew the ferretmaid a new dress.

The badgermum had chosen a deep blue material that complemented Primrose's cream-colored fur and darkened her eyes. She had carefully taken the ferretmaid's measurements and lovingly sewed the gown together. Primrose had been very excited by the making of her new dress and first ball gown, and had even given Merola a few suggestions on how to style it, which Merola generously considered. But only a few of these styles would the badgermum do, as she didn't want Primrose's dress to bring her too much attention.

Now Merola sat back, watching as the ferretmaid got fitted into the frock. Primrose had just returned from the troupe's final dress-rehearsal only to have Lily insist that she try on the just-finished dress. Merola, however, had thought she noticed a disgruntled look about Primrose when she arrived home, but had no chance to comment on it. She could only watch and notice that the ferretmaid's excitement at putting on her new dress seemed to have deteriorated.

Lily, however, hadn't noticed a thing, and just finished the final fastenings to the gown. "Now turn around, let me look at you."

The ferret obliged, and the mousemaid could barely contain a small gasp.

There came to Lily the memory of opening Uncle Markas's basket and seeing Primrose for the first time: a tiny, plump, fuzzy baby.

Now this self-same baby stood before her, though for a minute it didn't seem possible. Tall Primrose stood, even taller than Lily, and practically blazed with majestic beauty.

But now, thanks to the new dress, the mousemaid saw that not only had the little ferretbabe grown tall, but also slender and curvy.

"Oh, my dear," the mousemaid whispered. "You look . . . grown-up."

"That's the first and last time I ever make a dress like that," Merola stated.

_"Nobeast made you do it!" _Primrose snapped, turning on the badgermum.

Merola wasn't too surprised by the outburst, but Lily was aghast.

"Primrose!"

But the ferretmaid was already rushing towards her room. "Why don't you make me go in a belt and tunic?!"

Primrose charged into the bedroom where the other two were and flopped down on her bed.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Oh, what is it now, Prim?"

The ferret didn't answer.

"You better tell us, Prim." Merola appeared in the doorway with crossed arms. "It'll shorten the time we'll be badgering you about this."

Petunia gave a laugh at the badger's weak joke.

Primrose breathed heavily through her nose. "The play's going to be terrible!"

"And how do you know that?" challenged Merola.

"Tonight was the worst rehearsal in the history of rehearsals!" the ferretmaid confessed, beginning to cry. "Everything that could go wrong went wrong! Everybeast forgot their lines, even I did! Everybeast couldn't remember what their cues were or where to stand, the costumes were ruined, the set was ruined - Ferdinand was in tears by the time we were done!"

Primrose buried her face in her pillow, sobbing, "I'm going to look a fool on that stage tomorrow night! Everybeast is going to find out I can't act!"

For a moment, nobeast knew what to say. Merola went and sat down on the bed next to the weeping ferret, patting her back gently. Lily stood in the doorway, Petunia sitting at her desk, Pansy paused in one of her nightly stretches on the floor.

Finally, Merola spoke. "Well, if they do? What do you care what they think? I can't speak for any of them, but one thing's for certain, Primrose. If this play does turn out as badly as it did tonight, we'll still love you."

"Yeah!" said Pansy, hopping up on the bed. "We're family! We won't stop loving you, no matter what!"

"And if anybeast ridicules you," added Petunia, "I'll take my sword and chop their tail off!"

"Petunia!" cried Lily.

"Only joking."

Primrose lifted her tear-stained face from the pillow and somehow found it in herself to laugh.

* * *

The play night had come.

The beasts of Noonvale were once again gathered before the stage of The Roaming Whimsical Players. All of them were very eager for this next act, though there were fewer creatures that night. That had to do with the fact that the play was supposed to be darker than its predecessors. Concerned parents had made their children stay home with their nannies or over at friends' houses. The youngsters were very indignant, but after it was explained that the play wouldn't be very funny at all, they ceased their arguments.

Primrose had come down early with her family to get ready. The poor ferretmaid's insides felt like they were eating themselves, and her expression looked the same.

"Well," she said just before entering backstage. "Here's where we part."

Lily, Merola, Petunia, and Pansy all wished her good luck and went to find some seats. Dakar, who had come down with them, reached forward and touched Primrose's arm.

"I know you'll do well," he whispered. "You always do."

The ferretmaid managed a smile and gave her thanks before disappearing backstage. Dakar stared after her a moment before turning around to see Petunia waiting for him.

Clapping the haremaid on the back, the mousewarrior said, "C'mon, let's get some seats, eh?"

Petunia had watched the passing between Primrose and Dakar. The mouse had looked at her the same way he had when her head was stuck in the wall. The haremaid furrowed her brow; why should he look at Primrose the same way twice?

Oh, but of course. Lily must have told him about last night's rehearsal, and Dakar was concerned about Primrose. That made sense.

Relaxing, Petunia led Dakar to where she thought were some good seats.

* * *

Later, Rogak found Primrose sitting alone on a casket, looking miserable.

"Hey there, what's all this about?" the kindly otter asked, kneeling down in front of her.

The ferretmaid sniffled. "Tonight's play is going to be awful."

Rogak looked surprised. "What? What makes you say that?"

"You were there. Last night, at the dress rehearsal. Ugh, it was so hideous, I couldn't eat all day!"

Rogak stared at her for a moment before breaking down in laughter.

Primrose looked up at the otter, stunned. Then her eyebrows met in anger. "What's so funny?" she demanded.

Rogak got a hold of himself, clutching at his stomach. "I'm sorry, I - I didn't mean to laugh. It's just-" the otter cracked up again, one paw holding his chortling face.

Primrose's misery became fury as she slapped at the large otter's arm. "There is nothing to laugh about, waterdog!"

"Now that was uncalled for," Rogak said, finally looking up, though he didn't look offended in the least. "But I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry. It's just . . . don't you know the superstition of playacting?"

Judging by the ferret's blink and furrowed brow, Rogak assumed she didn't. He sighed, and began explaining.

"There's no guarantee that it works all the time, but usually whenever there's a bad dress rehearsal, that means the play is going to be a success."

"It does?"

"Yes," Rogak nodded, smiling.

"Really? But . . . everything went so wrong last night. The costumes, the scenery, they were all ruined! And Ferdinand, he was so upset-"

"Take a look around," Rogak interrupted. "The costumes have been stitched up, the scenery's been fixed, and as for Ferdinand - have you ever met a Ferdinand that _wasn't_ upset?" he asked, grinning.

Primrose looked at the otter crouched before her, and somehow, her insides seemed to relax. And she felt her face muscles form a little smile.

"There, now, feel better?" the handsome otter asked, putting a strong paw on her shoulder.

"Yes." Primrose smiled back at Rogak's winning grin. "Much better."

"Good. Now I better go and get into costume. See you on stage!" And with that, the otter headed over to his tent.

The ferretmaid watched him go, thinking how sweet he was, and how out of all the creatures she knew, _he_ had been the one to make her feel better. . . .

* * *

Primrose stood on the stage in front of the spellbound Noonvalers. She could make out Lily and the others in the audience, just as astonished as the others.

The ferretmaid resisted the urge to smile and made a sad, desperate face at Rogak, who was about to leave the relative safety of the village to go and fight the monster haunting them.

"Alden, please!" Primrose, alias "Clorea", pleaded as she held onto Rogak's (Alden's) sleeve. "Don't go out there! It's too dangerous!"

"We can't hold out much longer," Rogak replied, gently prying her paws from his arm. His handsome face held an expression of grim determination that fluttered the hearts of many (including Primrose). "Our food is running out, we haven't got any fresh water. I'm not going to sit around waiting for something to happen while our fellow beasts are eaten one by one."

"Well then, let's run," Primrose suggested, grabbing the front of his tunic, looking deep into his eyes. "We'll run away. We won't have to deal with this anymore, and we'll get out of this alive. Oh, Alden, please, we could run away. We could run far, far away. . . ."

"And then what?" Rogak shouted, throwing her off of him. "Wait for it to come after us? No, Clorea, I told your father I would protect you, and I'm going to do that! I'm not going to hide like some cowardly vermin, I'm going to-"

He got no further, for Primrose had her lips pressed up against his.

That wasn't supposed to be in the play.

However, none of the Noonvalers knew that, so they weren't the type of shocked that The Roaming Whimsical Players were.

But they were shocked nonetheless.

In the audience, and backstage, there was not one pair of eyes that wasn't threatening to pop out of their sockets. There were few jaws that were still closed. Hardly any could think of a thing to say or do.

Pansy was the first to recover. She pressed one paw to her mouth while the other pinched her nose shut to keep herself from laughing.

Merola covered her eyes and tried to convince herself she was hallucinating.

Ruri's mouth became an 'O' and her eyebrows climbed up her face; this play was getting better by the minute!

Winifred's face became the definition of bitter, jealous anger; she had fancied Rogak ever since the first night he came to Noonvale, and had been working her way around him ever since then . . . and here that blasted ferret was _again,_ ruining _everything_ for her!

The ottermaid's face was not the only one showing jealousy; Dakar's eyes had a flare of such an emotion in them for a moment, but nobeast noticed. Not even Petunia, who was too busing gaping at the spectacle her older sister was making.

Lily's paw slowly reached up to her mouth, and suddenly she recalled Vanna's words. Males liked to look at Primrose. _Now_ what would they do?!

As for The Roaming Whimsical Players, they were stunned and terrified that Primrose had deviated from the script like that!

Ferdinand was tugging on his ears, his eyes comically bulging, his mouth drooling. The hare then stumbled out of view, where he probably suffered a nervous breakdown.

Madam Breeze was perhaps the calmest there; she had regained her composure almost instantly and simply arched an eyebrow.

Spiketipp, however, like Winifred and Dakar, was experiencing some jealousy of his own. The green-eyed monster stabbed at the hedgehog's heart, but he managed to calm himself. No doubt there was some explanation for all this.

As for Rogak, the poor otter was just as stunned as the rest of them. He nearly broke character as he glanced out at the audience, but he quickly looked over Primrose's head and saw Vanna, who was hysterically waving her paws at him to improvise.

Thinking quickly, the otter pulled himself free. "Please, Clorea, don't make this any harder than it already is."

Primrose's eyes welled with tears and she hung her head. "I'm sorry."

Rogak then lifted her chin, saying, "Be strong."

Primrose stared at him for a moment before replying, "I will try."

"Not 'I will try'," the otter corrected, "but 'I will'."

"I will," the ferretmaid breathed, offering a wavering smile.

Rogak then turned and made his exit. Primrose took a deep breath, and hurried off to the other side.

* * *

"WHAT was_ that?!" _Ferdinand demanded once she made it backstage.

"I just got caught up in the moment, that's all," the ferretmaid explained airily as she went to change her costume. "Besides, it didn't ruin the scene. In fact, it improved it a little."

Spiketipp, who was standing nearby, heard those words and slumped with relief. So there _had_ been a reasonable explanation.

The rest of the play passed swimmingly. Nothing could've made that night's performance any better. The creatures of Noonvale were breathless by the end, and were so stunned that they almost forgot to clap.

But when they did clap, it was a thundering tidal wave.

The actors gathered on stage, bowing and curtsying. Primrose, along with Rogak, was pushed forward to receive more claps, which they did. The Noonvalers still thought their kiss had been part of the act all along.

"I wish I was you!" a volemaid shouted to Primrose, and some laughter ensued. Though some creatures wondered if the vole wanted to be Primrose simply because she wanted to be an actress, or if because she wanted to kiss Rogak.

* * *

"I didn't know you got a kiss in this play," Pansy commented on the way home.

"That's because I didn't tell you," the ferret replied matter of factly. "I didn't want you ruining it by making fun of it."

"And how would have I made fun of it?" the squirrelmaid demanded.

"You know, making kissy faces every time you saw me or something."

Immediately Pansy started making such faces, asking her sister when she and Rogak were going to be married.

"Oh, shut up," Primrose snapped.

"I wish you had told us, dear," Lily put in concernedly. "We could've had a word with Ferdinand about it. I still think you're too young for things like that."

"I'm practically sixteen, Lily!" argued Primrose. "That's just the right age to begin courting and such! Isn't that right, Merola?"

"I'm sorry, are you speaking to me?" the badger replied.

Primrose stared. "Yes, of course I'm speaking to you."

"Oh, and what were you asking me about?"

"That sixteen is the best age to start!"

"Start what, dear?"

"Kissing!"

"Kissing!" repeated Merola, widening her eyes. "Did somebeast just kiss?"

"_Yes," _Primrose said through clenched teeth, furrowing her brow at the badgermum. "It was me! You saw us, up there on stage! Me and Rogak - what's the matter with you, Merola?"

"You didn't kiss anybeast, Primrose," the badger replied calmly. "I know you didn't kiss Rogak on stage because that was just a figment of my imagination."

Lily couldn't keep a triumphant gleam out her eye. Primrose scowled.


	16. The Argument

**Chapter 16**

"Hey, Spiketipp."

The hedgehog looked up, and smiled when he saw Rogak.

"Morning, mate. Come have some breakfast."

The otter remained where he was, however. "Er, listen. About last night—"

"You don't have to explain," Spiketipp smiled. "Primrose already did. She got caught up in the moment. And that's alright, things that like happen on the stage. Besides, she was right; it did make the scene better."

"Oh, so you don't . . . well, you know. . . ."

"Well, I was a little jealous," admitted the hedgehog as he continued to stir the porridge. "But really, it did kind of help me."

"Help you? Like . . . how?"

"Well, I gave it some thought last night, and realized that it was silly of me to be jealous, because Primrose and I, we were never really an item, were we? And besides, it's not really her that I'm in love with. I mean, yes, I do care for her and all, but it's really her image that enchants me the most. She's more like a muse to me, some ethereal creature that can inspire me to write great plays. Nothing more, really."

"Oh." Rogak carefully sat down next to his friend. "So you really don't mind?"

"I'd be lying if I said I didn't. But I can say that as time goes on, I'll mind less and less until finally, I don't mind at all. So have some porridge, mate."

* * *

Primrose wasn't having as good a morning as Rogak – and rightly so, as she had been the one to initiate the kiss in the first place.

"I don't see why it's such a big deal!" the ferretmaid complained at the breakfast table. "You'd think I'd have done something horrid, like kill somebeast or something!"

"It's not that," Lily argued. "It's just that . . . we're concerned, Primrose. _I'm_ concerned. How many times have you kissed Rogak anyway?"

_"Once,"_ was the short reply.

"Once? But there had to have been all those rehearsals-"

"That kiss wasn't part of the play!" shouted Primrose. "I got caught up in the moment and lost my head for awhile! There! Are you happy?"

"No, I'm not happy," Lily growled. "You made us think last night that the kiss had been part of the play all along. You lied to us."

"Well I told you the truth now! And I don't see why you should be concerned; I was bound to kiss some malebeast in the future anyway! I would've thought you'd be relieved that it was Rogak!"

"She's got you there!" chirped Pansy, grinning at Lily.

"Keep quiet, Pansy," growled Merola.

"It's not just the fact that you kissed Rogak that's got me so concerned," Lily countered, ignoring the others.

"Oh really? Then what is it?"

"It's just who you'll be kissing after Rogak, and what else you'll be doing with them!"

"How can you think that about me?!" screamed Primrose. "Don't you trust me?"

"Frankly, no," Lily retorted. "After your disgraceful behavior last night-"

_"Disgraceful?!"_ shrieked Primrose. "There was nothing disgraceful about it! And as for your concerns, they're completely ridiculous. Just because I kissed one male on a whim doesn't mean I'll be going about kissing more! And besides, didn't it ever occur to you that I chose Rogak as my first kiss just because my standards are so high?"

"That does show good taste," Pansy put in, grinning even more.

_"Pansy,"_ warned Merola.

"And besides," the enraged ferret went on, "I'm not a dibbun anymore! I'm growing up, and it's only natural I should find males interesting! I would've thought you'd want me to have a few beaus before I started looking for a husband, and frankly, considering the fact that I'm the only member of my species in this blasted valley, I'm going to have to settle for creatures like Rogak!"

"And she could do a lot worse," pointed out Pansy, jumping out of Merola's reach.

"I think-!" a loud voice said, causing all eyes in the room to turn to Dakar, who so far had been sitting quietly in one of the chairs.

"I think," he said again, standing up. "That Primrose has a point, regarding her age and the fact that it's only natural for her to find interest in males."

Primrose beamed at the mouse. Lily stared incredulously.

"However," Dakar went on. "I also see that Lily has a point in that you, Primrose, could be giving males the wrong idea about you, and that you shouldn't go around-"

"Nobeast understands me!" the ferretmaid screamed, running out the door and slamming the door behind her.

For a moment there was silence.

Then Pansy spoke up. "What a drama queen!"

* * *

**A/N:** YES, I know, short chapter. But don't worry, folks. The next chapter will be long. And juicy. Bwa ha ha ha ha ha ha ha haaa!


	17. The Ball

**Chapter 17**

"I am so sick of Primrose always one-upping me!" Winifred the otter growled as she savagely went through her collection of gowns.

Tonight was the ball, and Winifred had every intention of claiming Rogak's heart before Primrose could. Dresses of many different cuts, sizes, and colors went flying through the air as the ottermaid searched for the perfect outfit to win over the handsome male otter.

"She may have beaten me before, but she won't beat me this time! She can take away the part of Angelica; she can take away the part of Myrtle and give it to her sister; she can get the lead role and get to kiss Rogak; but no more! Hah, besides, it never works out for her anyway! I got Angelica and Myrtle in the end, and now I'll get Rogak as well! And it'll be even easier this time, because it's a ball tonight, and everybeast knows that I'm a better dancer than she is! I'll make certain that Rogak notices me tonight - he won't even look at Primrose! Heeheehee! Take that, ferret! Heeheehee!"

The ottermaid's parents overheard their daughter's giggling, and, concerned though they were, could only shake their heads.

* * *

Primrose had been worried that Lily and Merola would forbid her from going to the ball, but to her relief (and somewhat to her surprise) they made no such commandment, and even asked her if she was going to get ready any time soon.

Earlier Merola had sat down with Lily to talk about their current predicament.

"Now Lily," the badgermum said seriously. "You have every right to be upset, but I think we should still let Primrose go to the ball tonight."

_"What?!"_

"It's for her own good, and for your own good, and for the good of everybeast in Noonvale."

"How is it," Lily wanted to know, "the good of everybeast in Noonvale if Primrose goes to the ball?"

"Well, first of all, if we forbid her, chances are she'll go anyway. And I don't want that to happen. Secondly, if she doesn't go, everybeast there will want to know why not. Everybeast thinks that the kiss was part of the play, but if they find out it wasn't, then they'll begin to talk. And even if we don't tell them and make up some story that she wasn't feeling well, still there will be some creatures that will talk. And thirdly, and you won't like this one. . . ."

Lily moaned and placed her face down on the table.

"Primrose is right," Merola continued. "She's right in the fact that she's not a dibbun anymore. We can't keep on treating her like that; bad things only come from it."

"Well, how _should_ we treat her?" Lily wanted to know, lifting her face.

"Well, my first suggestion would be to leave her alone. Let her make her own choices, her own decisions. And let her make her own mistakes. It'll be like with the Angelica plays, remember? We just let her carry on until she fell flat on her face. She became much less conceited about being an actress after that, remember? Chances are she'll be more careful about the romantic stuff after she's had a fall."

"Do you really think so?"

"Think so? I know so! Now stop moping about it and get ready for the ball! This is the first one you've been able to go to ever since the babies started coming! Come to think of it, Primrose is your age right before Markas brought her home for you to take care of, isn't she?"

"Yes, that sounds about right. So?"

"Well, I suppose it's finally coming to me how many seasons have really gone by. Why, you're thirty-two now, aren't you? Goodness, it seems only yesterday _you_ were the baby I had to look after!"

"Oh, Merola, really!"

"Don't 'really' me, young missy!" The old badger sighed. "Ah, when I thought about when you'd grow up, I never imagined you'd end up like this."

"Well," Lily replied, getting up. "Neither did I. But I'm glad the maids came into our lives, I wouldn't have it any other–"

"What? No, I wasn't talking about them, I was talking about your appearance!"

"My _appearance?"_ cried Lily. "What's wrong with my appearance?"

"Nothing," Merola shrugged. "You're just looking a bit thin, is all."

The mousemaid scoffed. "I've always been thin."

"You've never been gray before, though," the badger retorted.

"I am not!" Lily objected, though she couldn't keep a laugh out of her voice. "I've got the odd silver fur, is all!"

"Ah, yes, that's what you're going to call it, eh? 'Silver', not 'gray'. Anything to make yourself feel young."

"Oh, Merola."

"Oh, Lily. Now hurry up! I'm sure we've got a suitable dress for you somewhere!"

* * *

That very evening, Primrose found herself walking up to the Council Lodge where the ball was being held. Already she could see beautiful strings of multi-colored lights and flowers hanging all about, and hear lively music being played.

Lily and Merola were walking right behind her. While the mousemaid's brow was furrowed and her paws were twisting this way and that, the badgermum appeared to be as calm as a stream.

"Don't be nervous," Merola said.

"I'm not nervous," Primrose protested.

"I wasn't talking to you, I was talking to Lily."

Primrose fought back a laugh as Lily gave an irritated frown.

By the time they arrived at the doorway, they saw that several Noonvalers had already arrived, and were dancing to their hearts content.

Primrose felt a rush of excitement; her first real ball! And she looked beautiful in her new blue dress, which was already getting some interested looks from the other beasts. The ferretmaid thought she saw a few jealous glares from some of the other females, and felt her heart swell with smug pride. But she quickly extinguished it, remembering how it turned out for her during the Angelica plays when she let her pride get the better of her.

"Excuse me, Miss Primrose."

She turned and saw none other than Spiketipp, who had polished his spines for the occasion.

"May I have this dance?" the hedgehog asked, holding out his arm gallantly.

"Certainly, Mr. Spiketipp," the ferretmaid replied, placing her slender paw on his large one.

As Primrose was led off, Merola announced, "I'll just go over here with the other wallflowers and relax. You go off and dance, Lily."

And before the mousemaid could argue, the badgermum was gone. Taking a deep breath, Lily turned and looked out at the dance floor. It had been seasons since she had been on one, and she was certain she wouldn't remember all the steps to the dances. She wished Dakar was there, but the warrior had stated he had two left footpaws when it came to dancing, and that they wouldn't see him out on there on the floor.

The mousemaid was seriously beginning to consider leaving and going home when suddenly a courtly-looking male mouse asked her to dance.

Flustered, yet flattered, Lily found herself saying yes and being swept away into the whirl of the other dancers.

Very soon all the Noonvalers arrived, save for dibbuns who couldn't stay up late, and oldsters who decided to stay home and watch the little ones. The Council Lodge became a place of swirling, brightly-colored skirts and capes as Noonvalers danced along with The Roaming Whimsical Players.

Ferdinand the Terrific tried to show off to some pretty females, only to trip on his over-long scarlet-and-gold cape. The hare turned red with rage as the maidens laughed their heads off, but surprisingly he held his temper. He even started to laugh himself.

"He's always on better behavior at balls," Vanna explained to the maidens.

"I say," Ferdinand called from the floor. "Could somebeast lend me a paw? I can't seem to get myself free eh-hey! What're you moles doing?! Don't do that, you're only entangling me more! Hey, hey!"

The moles wrapped the irritated hare up in his cloak and propped him up in a corner.

"Hurr," said the lead mole, tugging his snout at the bound-up Ferdinand. "You'm better stay up thurr, zurr Ferdy, afore ee be trippin' agin and settin' the whole place on foire! Burr arr!"

The enraged hare made a mental note to himself never to wear capes again.

* * *

Winifred the ottermaid was among the wallflowers, not because nobeast wanted to dance with her (she actually looked rather pretty in a pale yellowish-green gown that somehow complemented her fur, as well as having a pink blossom tucked behind her ear), but because the one creature she wanted to dance with hadn't made an appearance yet.

_Where is he? Come on, come on, where is he?_

The ottermaid's eyes scanned the room, looking for Rogak. She intended to find the handsome male otter and dance with him all night – and keep him well away from Primrose! That would serve the snotty ferret right! Trying to move in on Winifred's future husband! By this time tomorrow night, she was sure Rogak would be speaking to her father for her paw in marriage; oh, it would be wonderful!

Suddenly, she saw him! There, way across the room, looking even more handsome than ever in a black tunic trimmed with gold.

Wasting no time, Winifred made her way towards him.

* * *

Primrose was in a giddy whirl. Already three different males had asked to dance with her, each of them telling her how nice she looked in her new blue dress, or what a graceful dancer she was!

Of course, the ferretmaid made certain that she complemented them back, saying how gallant they were and that they were fine dancers themselves, when suddenly she felt a tap on her shoulder.

"May I cut in?"

_Goodness, that's the fourth time tonight!_ the ferretmaid thought as she turned around-

-and saw that it was Rogak.

* * *

_No!_ thought Winifred as she saw Rogak ask Primrose for a dance.

* * *

Unable to keep a blush from her cheeks, Primrose nevertheless accepted, and allowed herself to be swept away by the handsome otter.

"You've certain kept this under wraps," the ferretmaid commented after awhile.

"What?"

"Your dancing skills. I didn't know you could dance so well."

Rogak chuckled. "Oh. Well, when you're a member of The Roaming Whimsical Troupe, it's a good idea to be multi-talented."

* * *

Winifred watched the dancing couple with a gaze that was growing steadily greener and greener. Again . . . _again_ Primrose had something that Winifred wanted! And the ferret didn't even deserve it! Only because she was prettier - that was all! It wasn't because she was more talented or smarter. It wasn't fair, it wasn't fair at all. . . .

The ottermaid wasn't the only jealous one who was watching Primrose and Rogak.

Outside, watching from the window, was Dakar.

Though he had told Lily that he wouldn't be coming to the ball tonight, he still considered himself being true to his word, as he wasn't out on the dance-floor like he said.

Right now the mouse watched as Rogak spun Primrose around the dance-floor, envying the otter. Dakar couldn't understand it, this sudden obsession with Primrose. Why should he suddenly feel this way for her, when he barely even knew her?

* * *

"Listen, Rogak," Primrose said falteringly. "About that kiss. . . ."

"I understand," the kindly otter smiled. "You were caught up in the moment. It's perfectly alright. Though next time you do get caught up, try to give me a warning or something," he added, chuckling.

"No, that's just it. I _wasn't_ caught up in the moment."

Rogak stopped dancing. He and Primrose simply stood in the middle of the dance-floor, surrounded by couples who carried on, not noticing.

"Primrose," the otter said, furrowing his brow.

"Rogak," the ferret interrupted. "I've always fancied you. On some level, I've always have. I-"

_"Primrose,"_ Rogak said firmly. "I'm sorry. You're beautiful, you're perhaps the most beautiful female I've ever come across, but . . . I don't think we could ever be."

She blinked, slowly. It took her a moment to fully absorb just what was being said to her.

Then, without another word, Primrose turned and left Rogak on the dance-floor.

Before he could consider what to do next, Rogak felt his arm being grasped. Looking down, he saw Winifred's eager face.

"Care to dance, Lord Rogak?"

* * *

Primrose hurried outside, thankfully unseen by anybeast. If ever she had been told that being rejected by somebeast you loved hurt exceedingly, she believed them now.

Never before had Primrose ever been rejected. Not really. She had been taken in by Uncle Markas, by Lily and Merola, by all of Noonvale, in fact, when she had been little more than a babe. She hadn't been excluded from any games or events while growing up; she hadn't been barred from taking the dancing lessons with Madam Breeze; she hadn't been told she couldn't audition for a part in a play – she hadn't even been rejected during any of those auditions! She always got the part she wanted, and the only time it was taken away from her was Angelica.

But the part in a play being taken away from her hurt far less than the rejection she just experienced.

She had secretly admired Rogak for the longest time, ever since his first night here at Noonvale. She had enjoyed spending so much time with him during rehearsals. And why shouldn't she? He was tall, strong, compassionate, brave and handsome. Everything a female could want in a male.

And he didn't want her. He-

"Primrose?"

The ferret gasped, swiftly wiping her eyes and turning to see Dakar come out of the shadows.

"Dakar! Um – what are you doing here? I thought you weren't coming."

"I told Petunia I was going for a walk," the mousewarrior answered.

"Oh."

There was a moment of silence between them before Dakar gestured at one of the windows, saying, "I saw what happened in there."

". . . oh. You did?"

"Yes. Um . . . what happened? You were dancing with Rogak, and the next thing I know you're out here crying."

"I wasn't crying!"

"Yes you were," Dakar snapped suddenly. "Don't lie like that, it's a nasty habit. Now what did he say to you? Did he say anything he oughtn't? Because if he did, I will march right in there and-"

_"Why do you care so much?!"_ Primrose shouted, throwing up her arms. "First you think I shouldn't be going around kissing males, and now you're threatening creatures that you think are hurting me? _Why?_ Why do you even give a rip?!"

Dakar took a deep breath. "Because."

The ferretmaid stared at him.

Then she walked right up to him and kissed him.

Lily saw it all.


	18. The Waiting

**A/N:** Hi, I just wanted to say a few things.

First, some of you think that Primrose was "happy" when she kissed Dakar. . . . why is that? What makes you think she was happy? Did it ever occur to you that she was in shock and merely reacted out of a desperation to be accepted again?! . . . . or maybe I just needed to make it clearer.

Heh, sorry about that. But anyway, yeah . . . enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 18**

It could've been a minute.

It could've been an hour.

It could've been a hundred seasons.

But however long it was, the lips of Primrose and Dakar finally parted, and each creature looked into each other's eyes.

Finally Primrose dropped her head. "I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me, kissing one male one day, and kissing another the next-"

"No," interrupted Dakar. "I'm sorry. I should've stopped you. But I didn't."

Lily, who was being a witness to this all, quickly hid out of sight so she could listen to the conversation without being spotted. The mousemaid strained her ears over the sound of the music and dancing coming from inside (and over the pounding of her heart) to hear what was being said.

"Primrose," began Dakar. "I have to admit. For the past few weeks, I've been . . . ever since I saw you, with your head sticking out of the wall-"

The ferret gave a snort of laughter and placed her face into her paw.

"I'm serious, Primrose. Ever since then, when I saw your face bathed in candlelight – I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. You're a beautiful creature, and I couldn't get over that."

"And?" Primrose asked, getting a hold of herself.

Dakar sighed. "But tonight, when you kissed me just now . . . it was like opening my eyes. I realized some very important things."

". . . like what?"

"Well . . . first of all, you and I . . . we can never be."

Primrose nodded, blowing air out through her nose. "I thought you'd say that. Hah, I just realized: my first ball and already I've been rejected twice."

"I'm not rejecting you," Dakar argued. "I'm just coming to my senses. When you were kissing me just now, I became very well aware of the fact that you're so much younger than I am, and that you're like Lily's daughter, and-"

The mouse continued, unaware that at the mention of Lily's name, Primrose felt an almost overwhelming surge of guilt. The ferret had known that, on some level, Lily held a liking for Dakar, and here she, Primrose, was, just finished from kissing him!

"-and that we both probably want different things in life," Dakar went on. "You're young and will probably want to continue on with your acting. And me, I'm getting on, and want to settle down someday in the near future. It's impractical all around. Do you understand, Primrose?"

The ferret nodded. "Yes, I understand. But . . . thank you."

"For what?"

Primrose gave a weak grin. "This has certainly helped me get over Rogak."

Dakar couldn't help but laugh, and Lily, who had heard it all, sagged in relief.

"And I should be thanking you, too," the male mouse said.

"For what?"

"Well . . . this whole incident has inspired me to get over a previous love . . . and move on to a future love. I think now I'll be able to pursue a romance that so far I've been too afraid to follow."

Lily suddenly felt her heart burn and pound against her rib cage. Her chest felt as if it had turned to water and then into air, and her lips formed a smile of eager anticipation.

"Really?" said Primrose, surprised but suddenly excited. "Anybeast I know?"

"I'll tell you. But not right now. I have to get back to the cottage or Petunia and Pansy will start to worry."

"Alright. Have a good evening."

"You too, Primrose. And I mean that; have a good time."

"Thanks."

Lily held her breath as Primrose walked past her, back onto the dance-floor. The mousemaid could've sung with merriment. Everything had worked out! Just like Merola said!

Thinking of the badgermum caused Lily to skip over to her and hug her.

"Well! What was that about?" Merola inquired, smiling at the mousemaid.

"Oh, nothing," Lily replied airily. "Just having a good time is all."

* * *

When Lily, Merola, and Primrose returned to the cottage, it was to find not only Petunia, Pansy, and Dakar, but Madam Breeze as well.

"Why Madam Breeze!" cried Lily, raising her eyebrows. "What a surprise!"

Primrose faltered; she wasn't sure if she should curtsy and say "Madam" like how she always did during lessons or rehearsals. The old hare-lady, however, didn't seem to notice.

"Pansy has been showing Petunia and Dakar how well her dancing has been going," Breeze explained, smiling.

"She's very good," nodded Dakar.

"And Petunia's been showing us how she's doing with her sword-lessons!" said Pansy, hopping up and down. "It's been a very exciting evening!"

"Yes, it has," Dakar nodded again. (Lily and Primrose gave a slight wince.)

"So," Madam said, turning to the others. "Did you enjoy the ball?"

"Yes," Lily said, smiling. Though there were some parts she could've lived without, the way how it all ended somehow made the entire evening wonderful.

"I enjoyed myself," said Merola. "I got to do a bit of relaxing, though a few times I feared I'd have to pry Primrose from a crowd of males."

"Oh, Merola," the ferret said, sitting down in one of the chairs (the one that, Lily noticed, was farthest from Dakar).

"She had many dance requests," the old badger went on, smiling fondly. "I wouldn't be surprised if she had a few proposals that she refuses to tell us about."

"Merola!" cried Primrose, though she laughed.

Lily also noticed that Primrose was carefully not looking at Dakar, who was also looking nowhere near the ferretmaid. She supposed that was only natural; it wasn't that long ago that the two had kissed.

"Our little mousemaid also had a good time as well," Merola went on, gently patting Lily on the back.

"Oh, stop it," Lily chided, though she couldn't stop herself from chuckling.

"Really?" said Pansy. "Did you get any proposals too, Lily?"

Before she answered, the mousemaid chanced a glance at Dakar – and was it her imagination, or did she see a flash of jealousy in his beautiful eyes? – and answered, "No, I did not, thank you very much. And speaking of getting to bed-"

"We weren't speaking of going to bed!" objected Pansy.

"Very polite of you to bring it up yourself," Lily said, smiling at the irate squirrel. "You'd better be getting along, now. You two as well," she added to Primrose and Petunia. "It's late, you need your sleep."

After much whining, Pansy was led to bed by her sisters. Dakar escorted Madam Breeze back to her tent, while Merola and Lily sank down into the couch.

"Well?" asked Merola.

"Well what?"

"Aren't you going to tell me what happened?"

"You were there. You saw everything."

"Something happened out of my sight that made you supremely happy," the old badger stated. "Now what was it?"

"It's nothing for you to worry about," Lily answered, blushing. She yawned. "Oh dear, it's so late. Why don't you go to bed, Merola? I'll stay up and wait for Dakar, alright?"

Merola stared at the mousemaid for awhile before getting up. "Very well. I can't think of what could've happened tonight that made you so happy, but I've no doubt you'll tell me in the future. . . ."

The badger made as if to go, when suddenly she turned and said, "Did it have anything to do with Primrose?"

Lily sighed. "Yes, some of it did. Oh, by the way, you were right. It did work out with her. I think Primrose will be a bit more careful with her romance from now on."

Lily remained on the couch for the remainder of the night, eager to be alone with Dakar when he came back from taking Breeze home.

But he never came.

* * *

**A/N:** To those who wanted to see Lily go crazy . . . she will. Go crazy, that is. Have patience.


	19. More Dancing Lessons

**Chapter 19**

"Lily? Wake up."

The mousemaid jerked away, her eyesight bleary in the morning light.

"Wha-? Where, what time is it?"

"It's morning," replied Merola's voice. "You've been asleep on the couch all night by the looks of it."

"What?" She looked around and saw that the badger was correct: she was still on the couch, covered in a blanket, still dressed in the ball gown she wore last night.

"What were you doing? Why didn't you come to bed?" Merola inquired.

Lily pressed her palm into her eyes, trying to remember.

"I wanted to stay up for Dakar," she said finally. "He. . . ." She trailed off, her eyes widening. "He never came back!"

"Are you sure?" the badgermum asked.

"I'm . . . well, hold on."

The mousemaid hurried towards Dakar's bedroom door. Knocking on it, she called softly, "Dakar? Are you in there?"

Getting no response, Lily carefully opened the door and peaked in, fearing the worst . . . and there, was Dakar, huddled beneath his blankets, snoring away peacefully.

The mousemaid's shoulders slumped with relief. He was alright, then.

Merola's head appeared above Lily's. "Hm," the badger commented. "For a mouse, he sure does snore loudly. I'm surprised we couldn't hear him through the walls."

"Maybe the wood's too thick," Lily suggested, grinning and feeling very light-hearted – and relieved.

The mousemaid excused herself to change into some fresh clothes, but as she did, a sudden feeling began pulling her down. Why had Dakar come back home so late? Surely it didn't take him long to escort Madam Breeze back to her tent and then come back to the cottage. Perhaps Madam wanted his help with something, or maybe something happened with the troupe that caused Dakar to stay behind and help out?

It was all very odd.

* * *

Dakar awoke and got out of bed right around the same time as Primrose, Petunia, and Pansy. The four came to the breakfast table still clad in their nightshirts, mumbling and fumbling.

Merola snorted and placed her paws on her hips, looking at all of them. "Well! I've never seen a sorriest bunch of creatures at the breakfast table! I hope that'll be a lesson to you all, staying up so late. Let's try never to let it happen again, eh?"

Pansy had her elbows on the table and was massaging her face. "Merola, could you please speak a little quieter? I just got up."

The other three gave small chuckles. Merola only shook her head, muttering about youngbeasts today. Lily went over to Dakar and poured him some tea.

"Here, this'll help wake you up," the mousemaid said with a kind smile.

"Thank you," the male mouse replied, returning her smile and sipping the drink.

"Can I have some?" Pansy inquired.

"I thought you didn't like tea."

"That's right, I don't. So never mind."

* * *

After a quiet breakfast, Dakar and the three maids got washed and dressed. They came out of their rooms feeling much more awake, and even had a bit of a spring to their steps.

Pansy and Petunia, due to the wonderful time they had showing off their skills last night, were filled with new hope for the future.

As for Primrose, the heavy sleep had done the ferretmaid a lot of good. It helped clear her head of the last night's events. It all seemed so dream-like, her pouring her heart out to Rogak only to be rejected, and then kissing Dakar, only to be rejected twice. Certainly a lot to go through for her first ball. But now none of it seemed to matter anymore . . . true, she still loved Rogak and Dakar, but more like brothers. It hadn't been real love she felt for them before; only mere infatuation. It felt very good to finally realize that.

Dakar, for reasons best known to himself, seemed quite cheerful this day as well. Though he and Primrose continued to avoid each other's gaze under Lily's watchful one.

The mousemaid was itching to know why the mousewarrior had been so late in coming home, but after all the pain she caused him while asking about his life, she didn't dare do it. She just hoped that somebeast - Merola or one of the maids - would do it for her!

* * *

Fortune seemed to smile Lily, for later that day, she was passing by an open window when she overheard voices. Turning, the mousemaid realized that the sounds were coming from outside; and that they belonged to Petunia and Dakar.

"Merola told me you were very late in coming home last night," the haremaid said as she and the mousewarrior sat back against the house.

"Mm, did she?" was all Dakar would say.

"Yes," Petunia went on, determined. "What were you doing? I thought you were just going to take Madam home and then come back. What happened?"

The mouse looked this way and that (but not upwards, otherwise he would've noticed the open window they just so happened to be sitting under), and beckoned the haremaid to come closer.

"I asked Madam Breeze to give me dance lessons."

"You what-?!"

"Shh-shh!" Dakar shushed, grinning.

Lowering her voice, Petunia went on. "Why would you want to do a thing like that? You're already a good sword-fighter. I should know."

Dakar gave a small snort. "Well, let me explain. As you already know, I, just like you, have no talent at dancing."

Petunia shrugged, giving a lopsided smile. "Yes, so?"

"So," the mousewarrior went on. "Do you remember I couldn't go to the ball last night because of that? Now if I had known how to dance, I could've made a particular maiden there very, very happy!"

The haremaid gasped. "You mean-?"

"Yes," nodded Dakar. "I'm trying to impress her, so to speak. But I want it to be a surprise, so don't you go telling anybeast what I just told you, alright?"

"You know I won't," replied Petunia, smiling reassuringly.

"Good, thanks. But while we're still on the subject, I think we might want to postpone sword-lessons for the time-being while I learn the art of dancing, eh?"

"I was afraid you'd say that," the haremaid said, shaking her head. "Well, it'll be alright. I'll have lessons with Ruri about math still, and I'll have more time to help Merola out with household chores. Hooray," she added sarcastically.

Dakar laughed and ruffled her ears.

Lily pulled back from the window, feeling very flushed. So . . . that was it . . . Dakar was trying to learn how to dance . . . so that he . . . so that they could. . . .

Suddenly a beautiful image of herself and Dakar waltzing around the dance-floor at the Council Lodge took form in the mousemaid's head. Lily sighed like how she would've when she was Primrose's age - but swiftly caught herself. Once composed, the mousemaid went off to finish her chores; though she, like the others, suddenly had a bounce to her step as well.

* * *

By lunchtime, Spiketipp the hedgehog came to call.

"Ah, Mr. Spiketipp," said Merola, who had answered the door. "We were just about to have lunch, why don't you join us?"

"Oh, whatever you're having sure smells good, miss Merola," the hedgehog replied, "but I'm afraid I must decline. I came to speak with Primrose about another play."

"Another one?" cried the badgermum. "Aren't you going to continue on with your other play?"

"Oh, it's finished," Spiketipp explained. "I decided not to make that one into a series, as it would exclude the dibbuns too much. Plus it's been awhile since they've seen a play, some of them have been asking when The Roaming Whimsical Troupe is going to be putting on another funny play."

"Ah, I see. Well, I suppose we can wait luncheon for Primrose. But try to be quick, and after you're done, you come straight in and eat with us. I'm not taking no for an answer."

"Yes, marm."

When the ferretmaid came to the door, the hedgehog's smile widened. He never failed to be enchanted by her beauty - but of course he now realized it was purely aesthetic, the feelings he held for her.

"Hello, Spike," Primrose chirped, sitting down on the steps. "What's up? Have you got another play?"

"Yes, actually," Spiketipp replied, sitting down next to her. "I decided, for the dibbun's sake, to make another fairy story, that way they wouldn't be excluded like this last play."

Primrose smiled and nodded. "Ah, that's nice. So, what's it about?"

"Well, I got the idea from the ball last night. It's about a beautiful maiden whose entire family has died, leaving her to live with some cruel beasts who make her into a sort of slave. Then one day, the prince who rules over the land announces that he will hold a ball at his castle, so he can meet all the eligible maidens in his kingdom to see which of them is most fit to be his wife. The heroine wishes to go, but she is forbidden by her cruel owners and ordered to clean the entire house from top to bottom.

"However, as the maiden begins her work, she starts to cry, and from her teardrops comes a beautiful fairy that transforms her into a great lady, and sends her off to the ball with the promise that she herself will clean the house for her.

"So, the maiden goes to the ball, where the prince is having a very hard time choosing which female will be his wife. And then suddenly, he sees the maiden. His heart is pierced. He knows immediately that she is the one, but the maiden cannot stay long, for the fairy had warned her that the magic would end once the moon disappeared behind the clouds.

"The maiden rushes back home, where she is once again in rags. But the house is all clean, and when her owners come back, they have no idea of that she was the mysterious lady who had caught the prince's eye.

"And speaking of the prince, he goes on a search to find his ladylove, only to be highly disappointed. Finally, he comes to the house of the maiden's cruel owners, who try to force one of their own daughters on him, but without much luck.

"Suddenly, the prince sees the maiden, and recognizes her. He embraces her, and the fairy returns to transform the maiden's rags into a beautiful wedding dress. And the cruel owners are thrown in prison, never to be heard from again.

Now, how does that sound?"

"Well," said a slightly-spellbound Primrose. "That sounds wonderful. Definitely worth putting on. Have you thought of who's going to play who?"

"Well, first off, I thought having you as the maiden, and Rogak as the prince–"

"Um, actually," interrupted Primrose. "I don't think that's going to work."

Spiketipp blinked. "What? Why not?"

"Well, I've already kissed Rogak on stage," explained Primrose, thinking fast. "I'm not sure if I want to give any impression of the two of us being romantic in real life. Plus I think I'd like to take a break from being the leading lady."

The hedgehog was disappointed; he had originally wrote the leading lady's part for Primrose. But he could understand her reasoning, and didn't want to try to force her into it.

"Alright, then. What do you suggest?"

"Well," mused Primrose, looking over the cast sheet. "Maybe I could be this fairy character. She looks like she'll be a fun role to play."

Spiketipp suddenly had a vision of the ferretmaid standing on stage, majestic yet whimsical, grandly wishing the maiden's wish to go to the ball. . . .

"I think that's perfect," the hedgehog grinned. "But who do you think should play the leading role?"

Primrose thought for a moment. Then her eyes lit up. "How about Pansy?"

Spiketipp's eyebrows shot up to his fore-spines. "Pansy? You mean your little sister, Pansy?"

"Well, how many other Pansys do we know? I'm sure she'd love to do it, and besides, she's been waiting so long to be apart of one of your plays. And she's a wonderful dancer, I'm sure she'd be good at it!"

"But don't you think she's a little . . . young?"

"She's nearly thirteen. And besides, Rogak doesn't _have_ to be the prince, if that's what you're worried about. You can get a young male squirrel to do that part, couldn't you?"

"Well . . . we'll see. Let's go in and discuss it with her over luncheon. If she's interested."

* * *

Pansy was ecstatic at the thought of playing the leading lady, though the idea of dancing with a partner, especially a clumsy male partner, made her hesitate.

"Your partner won't be clumsy," said Spiketipp. "Otherwise he wouldn't be in the play."

"And you don't have to kiss him or anything," Primrose assured her. "You just have to dance with him and hold paws. And besides, you get many solo dances."

"Alright, then! I'll do it!" the squirrelmaid proclaimed theatrically.

"Just don't let any of this go to your head, young missy," Merola warned.

"Right," agreed Primrose. "Remember what happened to me?"

"Don't worry," smiled Pansy, prancing about the room. "I won't leave my cloak in the wings."


	20. The Coral Play

**Chapter 20**

Rehearsal for Spiketipp's new play went smoothly enough. Pansy enjoyed very much being the show's leading lady, though at first she had some trouble becoming the character Spiketipp had in mind.

First off, the squirrelmaid didn't like her characters name: Snowflake. Spiketipp had explained that he named her that originally because she was supposed to be born on a night of snowfall. But the hedgehog agreed with Pansy that the name didn't suit her, and so changed the character's name to Coral, after the necklace left to her from Uncle Markas.

The next problem was trying to be _like_ Coral. At first, everybeast decided that Coral should be a sweet, demure creature. Pansy, in this case, proved herself not to be the actress that her sister was. Whenever the other creatures who played her masters started to be mean to her, the squirrelmaid would shout back a few insults - only to remember that they were only reciting their lines.

"Get that floor scrubbed, you little grub!" said the squirrel who was playing Coral's mistress. "Or I'll flay the hide off of you!"

"How dare you speak that way to me, you big fat – oh wait, you were only saying your lines, weren't you? Sorry. Sorry, everybeast."

It was Madam Breeze who helped solve that. The old hare-lady, when she heard that Pansy had been chosen for the leading part, came to watch every rehearsal that her pupil was in.

After finding out that Pansy couldn't pull off the act of being sweet and shy, she suggested that Spiketipp change Coral's character to better fit Pansy. Naturally the hedgehog did so (for nobeast ever thought of disagreeing with Breeze).

And so, Coral became a somewhat feisty slave, where whenever one of her masters would abuse her or give her a list of chores to do, Coral either mutter rebelliously after they had gone, or she would make faces at them when their backs were turned.

Pansy enjoyed that immensely. Rehearsals became a treat after that; everybeast loved it whenever the squirrelmaid would start doing impressions of her "masters", mimicking their voices or gestures. Pansy proved herself very good at such feats.

"Oh yes, _mistress_, I'll wash your dress for you," Pansy sarcastically said once her masters had left the stage, "but not before you wash your ugly face off your head! That way you won't ruin this poor outfit every time you put it on!"

But even so, another problem arose. The play was a musical, and therefore required, not only dancing, but also singing. Beautiful dancer though she was, Pansy was no singer. She had a decent voice, but the other actors easily outshone her.

Again Madam Breeze figured out a solution: the songs Pansy would sing would be shorter, and in between each verse, she would start to dance. That idea was met favorably.

The final problem was the scene at the ball where Pansy would have to dance with the prince. The squirrelmaid was so used to dancing by herself, and the thought of being _led_ by some male didn't suit well with her.

This time, however, Madam didn't try to solve Pansy's problem. She merely took her aside for a talk. Nobeast knew just what the old hare-lady said to her, but when they came back, Pansy was much more willing to give the scene a try.

The male squirrel who had been chosen the role of the prince proved himself a capable dancer. Pansy even began to enjoy herself a little, though she still preferred to dance alone.

Primrose was enjoying herself more than Pansy. It felt good to be started on another play, and to be decked out in another fay-like costume. It was also good in the fact that she could spend some time away from Dakar; it was still too awkward for her to be around him. But she knew she couldn't avoid him forever, and decided that once the play was over she'd start talking to him again.

It wasn't so easy where Rogak was concerned, though. Frequently Primrose would run into him, or see him somewhere around the camp. The ferretmaid became very glad that she had declined the role of Coral - otherwise she would _have_ to interact with Rogak.

The otter was playing the part of the prince's bodyguard, a good part for him, and the two of them wouldn't be in any of the scenes together - except for the finale, but even then they would have to be on opposite ends of the stage.

The only thing that bothered Primrose very much was Winifred. The ottermaid was sore that she had never even gotten the chance to audition for the part of Coral. She hadn't even gotten to audition for the part of the fairy-queen! And those were the only good female parts in the play! The rest were either the female master (which was best suited for some severe-looking matron), the master's daughters (who were supposed to be stupid and ugly), or the gabbles of random maidens vying for the prince's heart.

None of those had appealed to Winifred, as she desired a much more glamorous role after being excluded from the previous play. Finally, in the end, the ottermaid had to settle for being one of the fairy-queen's sprites: little green-clad creatures who helped clean up the house and dress Coral in both her ball-gown and wedding-dress. Fortunately, due to her talent as a singer, Spiketipp had created a small solo for Winifred to sing, as she had a beautiful voice.

So the ottermaid wasn't entirely put out; plus she got to spend more time with Rogak. And she never failed to throw this in the face of Primrose.

Whenever the ferretmaid would walk by, Winifred always made certain to laugh extra loud at his jokes ("Oh, Rogak, you're so funny!") or hug his arm tightly ("Goodness, you're so strong!"). Primrose would only throw a disgusted glance over, but paid no other attention. Winifred, however took pleasure in the ferret's obvious displeasure.

Petunia wasn't as happy as the rest, though. Because Dakar wasn't giving her sword-lessons, Merola had decided that she should take part in the play as well.

"You've had plenty of dance lessons with Madam Breeze," the old badger told her. "You'll do a fine job. Besides, I don't want you lazing about doing nothing except math problems. You hardly need any of those lessons at the moment, and it'll be nice that we'll finally get a play with all three of you in it."

Disgruntled, but uncomplaining, Petunia was entered into the play as one of Primrose's sprites. "I was certain I'd be cast as one of the ugly sisters," the haremaid confessed to Pansy during one of the breaks.

"I'm surprised they didn't give one of those roles to Winifred," the squirrelmaid stated flatly.

"Oh, Pansy, that's rude!" laughed Petunia. "By the way, have you seen Vanna lately? I haven't seen her around here yet."

"No," Pansy shook her head. "She's been gone a lot lately. I've asked Madam about it, but she just said that Vanna had some business to attend to."

* * *

Meanwhile, back at the cottage, Lily was gathering up the laundry. The mousemaid went through her own things, Merola's things, and the three maidens', until finally she came to Dakar's door.

"Dakar?" she called, knocking on the door. "Do you need any laundry done-?"

As she knocked, the door, which had been slightly ajar, pushed open. Lily peered into the room, and saw that it was empty. The mousemaid entered, deciding that Dakar couldn't possibly object if she just washed his cloak. The garment was lying on the bed. Just as she picked it up, though, she heard laughter from outside.

Blinking, the mousemaid headed over to the window. She listened to the voices, thinking how one sounded light and feminine, while the other. . . .

Lily froze. No, that wasn't . . . it couldn't be. . . .

Carefully, the mousemaid sidled up to the window and looked out as unobtrusively as possible.

And there, was Dakar, laughing and dancing with none other than Vanna.

Lily stared as the mousewarrior gave the squirrelmaid a clumsy twirl that forced her to fall into his chest. She stared as Dakar put his arm around Vanna's waist. She stared as Vanna put her paw on Dakar's shoulder. . . .

The mousemaid tore her gaze away. No, that couldn't have just happened. It couldn't have. It was impossible. He-

-she caught a whiff of his cloak. It reeked of Vanna's new perfume.

Holding the garment close to her body, Lily crumbled to the floor, her eyes flooding with tears.

* * *

The play night came.

Petunia was a jumble of nerves. The idea of dancing out in front of all those creatures made the flesh beneath her fur crawl.

Primrose, despite having done several plays before, still felt a rush of anxiety, but it was nothing compared to the gleeful excitement that raged in her stomach.

Pansy was the least nervous of her sisters. She even seemed bored with the whole procedure, waving her paws airily about, saying, "Yes, yes, don't forget that line, don't forget this line, don't forget that Ferdinand has an enormous bottom. . . ."

The others laughed at that; even Ferdinand gave a chuckle.

* * *

Out in the audience, Lily and Merola chose some good seats to see the act with. The badgermum was smiling that this play would all three of her little ones in it, and she looked forward to this more than the other plays.

Lily's smile, however, wasn't as genuine as Merola's. Excited though she was happy for the three maidens, the mousemaid had some trouble keeping her broken heart under wraps. And it certainly didn't help when she saw Dakar and Vanna sitting together some rows back. Turning around sharply, Lily kept her gaze dead-straight at the stage.

How dare she, Vanna? How dare she? Lily recalled how kindly she had helped the squirrel when her fur had been falling out, and this was how she repaid her! Never once had the mousemaid considered that the shy chap Vanna had talked about that day was Dakar. Surely Vanna knew that Dakar lived in the same house as Lily – she could've at least asked if it was alright if she pursued him! Of course, Lily would've said no, but she certainly preferred it that way than all this sneaking around! What was this, a _game_ to them?!

* * *

Finally, Ferdinand came out onto stage, announcing the play's beginning before leaping back offstage.

The audience clapped as a rag-clad Pansy came out, a bucket in one paw and a wash rag in the other. The squirrelmaid then got down on her knees and began to make believe she was scrubbing the floor.

Just then, a tall, severe-looking female squirrel came out, barking, "Get that floor scrubbed, you little grub! Or I'll flay the hide off of you!"

The older squirrel then turned around, calling sweetly to her daughters. Pansy, in the meanwhile, began mimicking her master (many Noonvalers chuckled). She swiftly went back to work once the daughters came out.

The daughters were being played by the two volemaids who had played Dewdrop and Butterfly in Spiketipp's second play. They were wearing paint and garments that made them look comically ugly.

The scene went on so that the older squirrel was very nice to her "daughters" but very mean to Pansy. The two volemaids followed their "mother's" example and were very abusive to the squirrelmaid as well. However, as soon as the three went offstage, Pansy stood up and began mimicking their voices.

"Scrub this, Cinder-squirrel! Wash this, you filthy piece of rags! Do this, do that, even though I have a face that not even a toad would consider beautiful!"

The audience laughed. Pansy grinned at this, and then began with her song. Her voice was nice, but her dancing was breathtaking. Once she was finished, the squirrelmaid was met by a tidal wave of applause.

Pansy curtsied and bowed dramatically, blowing kisses here and there until finally she rushed offstage when Ferdinand hissed at her to do so.

* * *

The next few scenes went by smoothly enough, but it wasn't until Primrose's first scene the audience clapped again.

Coral, alias Pansy, had just been forbidden from going to the ball. The squirrelmaid then sadly began to sing how she wished to go and dance, which was what she then began to do. She danced most gracefully among the fake trees and pumpkins, but then she suddenly stopped, sighing, "Oh, but why dream?"

It was then that Primrose stepped out on stage, clad in a floaty white dress, holding a silver scepter with a crown on her head.

"Because sometimes they can come true," the ferretmaid said.

The audience went near-wild with applause for their favorite actress.

Primrose, alias The Fairy Queen, then began to proclaim how such a beautiful dancer must not be left to dance alone. She then called upon her sprites, who came skipping out onto stage.

Winifred and Petunia were the first to come out. Winifred was smiling widely, but Petunia looked completely bored (which she was). They, along with the other "sprites", performed some acrobatic feats around Pansy, and then surrounded the squirrelmaid so Pansy could slip out of her rags and into the ball-gown one of the sprites brought in.

Primrose pretended to wave her "magic" wand, and Pansy reappeared, dressed in a magnificent gown.

"Now be off with you!" The Fairy Queen cried. "Go! Dance, be merry! My sprites and I, we shall clean the house in your stead!"

"Coral" thanked them all profusely and scampered off.

* * *

Finally, the play was done. The audience stood and clapped, whistling and cheering. All of the actors came out on stage, bowing or curtsying.

Pansy stood triumphant at center-stage, her sisters on either side of her. The squirrelmaid blew kisses here and there, causing some laughter to ensue from the audience.

Just then, Ferdinand came bounding onto stage, calling out, "Thank you, thank you all! Please, yes, thank you, but please, I have an announcement, or rather, your patriarch Juniper would like to say something. Ahem. Ah, please, everybeast, please stop clapping, yes thank you, please stop clapping, I- PLEASE STOP CLAPPING!"

At last, the audience settled down.

"Thank you," the irate hare breathed. "Now, then, Juniper, would you like to come up and give your announcement?"

The middle-aged mouse obliged, and said, "First, let me thank The Roaming Whimsical Players for their fine performance–"

"And me! And me!" shouted Pansy - who was silenced by Petunia's paw.

"Yes, and any of our fellow Noonvalers who volunteered," Juniper added, winking at the young squirrel. "But I just wanted to let you all know, there's been some food set up in the Council Lodge as a little treat. So if you wish, please gather there, or just head back to your respective homes."

"Yes, go home!" called Ferdinand. "More food for me!"

Everybeast laughed uproariously. The hare looked about sadly. "I wasn't making a joke."

* * *

**A/N:** In the next chapter, somebeast dies.


	21. The Feast

**Chapter 21**

Like how it had been with the ball the week before, the Council Lodge was arrayed with strings of flowers and colored lights. But instead of a wide, open space for dancing, there were more long tables covered in all kinds of food:

Cakes of all kinds lathered with meadowcream, candied chestnuts, and honey-preserves; many cheeses of deep yellow and pale cream, some studded with nuts; nutbrown ale; dandelion beer; watercress-and-scallion salads; latticed tarts; plum'n'beetroot wine; puddings of all kinds; vegetable soups and stews; honeyed scones; burdock cordial; wild cherry turnovers; watershrimp and hotroot soup; flans, turnovers, and farls, all warm and delectable.

Ferdinand the hare practically drooled at the sight of it all. However, before he could make a move towards the table, he felt himself being lifted up into the air.

"Arrg! Hey, what-?!" the irate hare shouted, glaring over his shoulder at Rogak, who grinned.

"Sorry, boss, but I'm under strict orders to let all the other beasts get their share before you go piggin' it all down."

"I say, what ridiculous-! Put me down! Let go, I say! A poor chap's bound to starve in a place like this! Put me down, waterdog! Arrrggg!"

"Don't worry," laughed Petunia as she and her sisters made their way past. "We'll save you some of the food."

"Ah, thank you, my dear! Thank you!" Ferdinand called gratefully. "Just make certain that you get me some of that apple crumble, and that strawberry tart, and maybe just a bit of that vegetable pasty? The one with the golden-fried crust?"

Soon all of the Noonvalers, along with The Roaming Whimsical Troupe (who were all still clad in their costumes), were feasting away. Pansy had entered a strawberry-fizz-drinking game with some of the other youngbeasts, while Merola sat down next to Ruri and the other oldbeasts. Petunia found Dakar and began discussing picking up the sword-lessons again.

Vanna was sitting next to Dakar. As she listened with an amused ear to the haremaid and warriormouse making conversation, the squirrel glanced up and saw Lily walking by.

"Oh, Lily! Hey, come sit with us!" she called.

The mousemaid, however, only shot Vanna a shockingly cold glance and stalked on by. The squirrelmaid was stunned. Why should Lily look at her that way? But she had little time to ponder this, as she was called upon by Petunia to help convince Dakar to give her sword-lessons again.

* * *

Pansy wiped her lips, gasping for air as she set down her fifth cup of strawberry fizz. The squirrelmaid then smiled around at the other creatures who had only drank about three.

"Hah! I win!" She then gave a belch. "Excuse me," she said to those laughing around her.

"Oh, miss Pansy?"

The squirrelmaid looked up and smiled when she saw it was Spiketipp. "Oh hi, Spike! Did you see me? I finished five cupfuls of strawberry fizz!" She gave another belch. "Excuse me again."

"That's great," the hedgehog smiled, his nose wrinkling a bit. "But Madam wants a word with you in her tent. She says to hurry."

Feeling surprised, and slightly concerned, Pansy jumped up and dashed outside, hoping that she wouldn't belch within the old hare-lady's presence.

* * *

After what seemed an eternity to Ferdinand, Rogak finally released him. The hare immediately dived at one of the food tables, and promptly began filling up a plate with whatever would fit on it. He also trooped by Petunia's table to retrieve the food she had picked out for him, not failing to thank her.

"No trouble at all," the haremaid told him. "Just one hare looking out for another, eh?"

"Ah, but you're a noble creature, miss Petunia!" Ferdinand said, bowing deeply. "If ever you decided to become a Long Patroller, they'd be lucky to have you!"

"See?" Petunia said to Dakar when Ferdinand left. "That's why I have to pick up my lessons again! I've been off them for too long–"

"You have not," the warriormouse retorted. "A week isn't too long. But I do see your point. Well, I suppose we'll pick up sword-lessons tomorrow, alright?"

"Ooh, thank you!" the haremaid squealed as she flung her arms around his neck.

* * *

When he had released Ferdinand, Rogak headed towards the food-tables to get himself some food, chuckling at the hare's antics.

However, the otter was hailed by Winifred. "Oh, Rogak? Yoohoo! I already got you some food! Come sit with me!"

Truthfully, the male otter was getting a little tired of the ottermaid's company, but it seemed impolite to refuse her offer, so Rogak plastered on a smile and sat down next to her.

Primrose, who was getting herself some cordial, noticed, and gave a bad-tempered snort. That was when she noticed Lily sitting all by herself, drinking some nutbrown beer. Giving her brow a slight furrow, the ferretmaid went over to the mousemaid.

"Anything wrong?" she asked, sitting across from Lily.

The mousemaid looked up from her tankard, jerked out of her thoughts. "Oh. Eh, no, nothing's wrong."

"Are you sure?" the ferretmaid persisted. "You look really down. Are you not feeling well?"

Lily looked at Primrose . . . and suddenly, for some reason, it seemed to make perfect sense to confide in the ferretmaid. She didn't know why, it just did. And so, taking a deep breath, she started.

"I know."

Primrose cocked her head. "Sorry?"

"I know about you and Dakar."

There was a long, long moment of silence between the two females.

Finally, Primrose gave a small exhale, an even smaller inhale, and said, "You mean about. . . ?"

"The kiss? Yes. I know."

". . . how did. . . ?"

"I saw you. That night at the ball. I saw it all."

Primrose swallowed, her face flushing, her heart trembling.

"I also _heard_ everything."

The ferret blinked, and suddenly her heart began to lighten. "Y-you did?"

"Yes." Lily looked very seriously at the ferretmaid whom she had raised from infancy. "I suppose you've already figured this out, but . . . I'm in love with Dakar."

Primrose suddenly felt very gleeful, and didn't bother hiding it. "Oh, Lily! Have you told him yet?"

The mousemaid's face hadn't lost its seriousness. "No. But right now, I don't think I can."

The ferret's smile melted. "Why not?"

Lily glanced this way and that before leaning closer to Primrose, who also leaned forward.

"He's fallen in love with somebeast else."

The ferret's eyes popped. She leaned back, her mouth hanging open. "No! He couldn't be-"

"That's what I thought," interrupted Lily. "But I know he is. I've seen them together. Sitting together, laughing together, eating together, _dancing_ together. I found out that he was trying to take dancing lessons, but he said it was from Breeze! He lied; he's been going around with another female."

"Who?" Primrose asked, curious in spite of herself.

"Vanna," Lily replied, saying the name as though it was a filthy word.

"No!"

"Yes. I saw them."

"But . . . but . . ." The ferretmaid tried to see a way around this, but she suddenly recalled how Vanna had not taken part in this last play. How she was constantly absent from the camp. . . .

"Oh, Lily," Primrose consoled. "I'm so sorry."

"For what? You haven't done anything – except give him a kiss that opened a door for him to start courting pretty squirrelmaids."

Primrose flushed, suddenly recalling how Dakar had said her kiss caused him to realize that there was only one maiden that he wanted. She had always suspected that it was Lily he had been talking about, not Vanna! It didn't seem right at all!

"Lily, I honestly thought he was in love with you–"

"I know you did. Really, I can't lay any blame on you. You are young and new to such things like this. I can't expect you to not make any mistakes. And besides, you only kissed Dakar because you were hurt and reaching out for comfort. But Vanna . . ." The mousemaid gave a contemptuous laugh. "The squirrel actually told me she was in love with a certain male, but she wouldn't tell me who he was. And I wished her good luck. Good luck, hah!"

Primrose's eyes were beginning to fill with tears. It was so strange seeing Lily, who was normally so kind and nurturing, being so bitter and angry.

"And Dakar," the mousemaid went on. "I sent him clear signals, I gave him clear hints! He's been in a relationship before, how could he not notice what I was doing? And yet, there they are, the both of them." Lily jerked her head at where the male mouse and squirrelmaid sat, eating and laughing. "I guess they're just too wrapped up in their own silly little affair to think of anybeast else, eh?"

* * *

Meanwhile, Pansy had made it to Madam Breeze's tent. There was very little light within the tent, even less than usual. The old hare-lady sat drooped in her chair, watching a small candle melt away.

"Madam?" the squirrelmaid said, giving a curtsy.

Breeze gave a small start, but her face formed a smile at the sight of Pansy. "Ah, my dear. Come closer, my sight is not was it used to be."

The squirrelmaid did so, noticing as she did how old and frail the hare-lady seemed. Usually she seemed to exclude an aura of power and majesty . . . but now . . . now she just seemed . . . elderly. It was very strange.

Madam Breeze's eyes looked Pansy over, her smile filled with approval. Finally, she spoke in a very quiet, tired voice, "Congratulations on your performance, tonight."

"Thank you," Pansy replied, curtsying again. She was still a bit taken aback by her teacher's sudden change. Usually Madam seemed to full of strength and energy.

"I have trained you . . . all that I can train you."

Pansy blinked. "What? Oh you couldn't possibly mean _that."_

Breeze went on, as though the squirrelmaid hadn't spoken at all. "Do not give up dancing," she whispered. "You are truly . . . _truly_ a remarkable dancer. . . . Remember . . . all that I . . . taught you."

"Yes, Madam, I will."

Breeze gave one final smile before sitting back. For a long moment, there was just silence and stillness.

At last Pansy approached her teacher, murmuring, "Madam, would you like a blanket? . . . Madam?"

* * *

"Have you tried . . . _talking_ to them?" Primrose asked Lily.

The mousemaid gave a short laugh. "Talk? Oh, Primrose, you have much to learn about romance . . . like this," she added, her eyes widening when she saw Vanna get up and walk towards them.

To Primrose's shock, Lily stuck her foot out and tripped Vanna, sending her flying to the floor. The ferret was further shocked when Lily laughed, long and loud.

Vanna picked herself up, red with rage. "You did that on purpose!" she screamed.

"Yeah, that's right," Lily replied, taking a sip from her tankard. "What're you gonna do about it?"

The squirrel walked straight up to Lily and seized the tankard, dumping its contents over the mousemaid's head.

Lily screeched in anger and tackled Vanna. The two females rolled around on the floor, hitting, shrieking, biting and scratching. The other creatures could only scream and watch wide-eyed or jump out of the way. Primrose, however, got up and tried to separate them, but to no avail.

"Stop it! Stop it!" she yelled. "Dakar, Rogak, help me!"

The two males hardly needed any bidding. They dashed over, Rogak grabbing Vanna while Dakar took hold of Lily. Together, they managed to pull the two females away from each other.

Realizing that it was Dakar who was holding her, Lily turned and struck at him. The male mouse just barely was able to hold her off, roaring, "Lily! Get a hold of yourself! What's the matter with you?!"

"What's the matter with _me?!"_ screamed Lily. "What's the matter with _you?!_ I made it perfectly clear that I was in love with you, and yet you don't even have the decency to let me down easy! No, you just skip off with this–"

Before the mousemaid could come up with a name bad enough to call Vanna, Pansy came running in, shrieking and sobbing,

"Help! Help! Somebeast help! Madam Breeze, she won't wake up! She's all cold and still, she won't wake up! Help, help!"

* * *

**A/N:** Congratulate storiewriter, because she somehow figured out that it was Madam's head on the chopping block. Don't know _how_ she figured it out, but oh well.

And also, storiewriter, you keep saying how snippy Pansy is . . . well, in the next chapter, we'll find out just why she is so snippy.


	22. The Funeral

**Chapter 22**

Madam Breeze was buried the next morning. Her resting place was near the grave of the legendary Laterose, a worthy grave for such a lady.

Only the prettiest flowers were placed on Madam Breeze's grave, roses making up the majority. Every animal in Noonvale came to give their respects to the old hare-lady who had supplied them with all the entertainment they enjoyed this past season. Spiketipp himself recited the prayers and said the few words that were normally said at funerals.

"Madam Breeze was like a mother to us all.

She taught us to sing.

She taught us to dance.

She taught us how to read and write,

How to apply all our talents to the stage.

Never before was there such a majestic hare,

Nor will there probably ever will be.

Rest in peace, Madam.

May Dark Forest treat you well."

Ferdinand wept continuously for his mother, dabbing at his face with a kerchief, and eventually had to be led off by a comforting Rogak. The rest of the troupe was mightily subdued at the loss of their leader, and returned to their encampment very quietly.

Lily herself felt very subdued. Her half-drunken outburst last night, combined with the knowledge that her youngest charge had watched her teacher die, had created an eerie sense about the world. She had disgraced herself in front of all of Noonvale, more than any of the three maids could ever have done, and tried to harm Vanna, all right before the eyes of Primrose and Petunia. Never before had Lily felt more shame.

None of the other Noonvalers looked at her, not even Dakar, who went off alone after the funeral. Nor did any of the troupe spare Lily a glance. Save for Vanna, who gave her a swift, strange glance that made the mousemaid sorry for everything she had done.

At last, they returned home. But the tension didn't stop.

Pansy broke down into hysterical sobs while huddled up in a corner.

"Oh, Pansy," Lily soothed, kneeling down next to her. "I'm so sorry you had to see that."

"I'm not crying about Madam!" the squirrelmaid wept. "I'm crying about _me!_ I can't possibly stop my training now!"

Lily stared. The shock she felt now was greater than any she had ever felt before. She turned to the others, whose faces were reflecting her own emotions.

The mousemaid turned back to Pansy, and said in a low, trembling voice, "You heartless little monster!"

"You don't understand!" bawled Pansy.

Lily slapped her. The squirrelmaid stopped crying, looking up at the mousemaid with wide eyes.

"What I understand," shouted Lily. "Is that you only care for your dancing and nothing else! Madam Breeze, the very creature who taught you how to perfect your skill, is dead, and you couldn't give a rip! I can't believe–"

Pansy slapped Lily, and before another thing could be done, she jumped out of the corner and dashed for her room - only to be caught by Merola.

"Hold on!" roared the badgermum, causing everybeast to freeze. "I'll not be having anybeast slapping each other anymore until we've settled this whole thing! Is that clear?!"

Nobeast said anything.

"Now," Merola went on, setting Pansy down in a chair. "What's this all about? Explain yourself."

At first the squirrelmaid was silent. Then she began.

"I'm not an orphan."

The others glanced at each other.

"Would you care to elaborate?" Merola said. It wasn't a question.

Pansy finally looked up and glared. "You know I'm not an orphan! My mother didn't die, she gave me away! It always hurt me that she didn't love me enough to try to take care of me! At least you two know that your parents loved you!" she added savagely to her sisters. "Petunia's mother died because of a fever and her father died trying to save her, but that didn't stop them from naming her! And Primrose! Her parents sacrificed their own safety for hers when they were attacked by those river-rats! I didn't get a shelter like Primrose! I didn't get a burrow under a tree - only a letter explaining that my mother was too lazy to raise me.

"And I always wondered what it would be like to have a mother, or at least a mother-figure, who died loving you, because that would hurt so much less than having a mother who gave you up when you were only an infant! And I know I'm right, because Madam Breeze was just like that to me! A mother-figure who died loving me. I've finally gotten the one thing I've always wanted, even before I wanted to dance!

"Yes, I'm not sad or hurt by Madam Breeze's death. I'm not, because she died peacefully in her old age, and thought that she had finished training me! She died a contented old beast, so there's no use in crying over her death!

"And what's more, I haven't finished training, whatever Madam may have thought. I still have much to learn. And with her gone, I can't anymore."

For the longest moment, there was silence, save for Pansy's sniffles.

Then Lily spoke. "I'm sorry I slapped you, Pansy."

The squirrel sniffed once again, and answered in a shaky voice, "I'm sorry, too."

The mousemaid crossed the room and wrapped her arms around Pansy. Soon the others joined.

The tension was broken.

* * *

**A/N:** There! We now know why Pansy is so snippy: she feels like her mother abandoned her.

And, of course, as you can see, I've updated not only one, but two chapters! :D


	23. The Apology

**Chapter 23**

Lily didn't want to wait for Dakar like that night after the ball. This time she asked Petunia (who knew the warrior best) where Dakar usually went to be alone.

"He usually goes to the riverside just outside the valley," the haremaid answered.

And so, the mousemaid trooped out towards the river. Sure enough, there he was, sitting with his back against a tree, silhouetted against the sunlight. Hurrying forward, Lily ran up to him, stopping a few feet away from the mousewarrior.

At the sound of her footsteps, Dakar turned and saw it was her coming. For awhile the two mice simply stared at each other.

"Hi," Lily finally said.

"Is that all you can say?"

". . . I'm sorry."

"For what? For not sinking your claws into me any deeper?"

"Don't speak like that to me!" Lily said angrily. "You've no right!"

"Just as you've no right attacking innocent squirrelmaids!" Dakar retorted.

"I said I was sorry for that; but you've never once said you were sorry!"

"What have I got to be sorry for?"

Lily felt as if she had been slapped in the face. "For leading me on, that's what!" she shouted. "I told you last night, I made it as clear as I could-"

"Yes, I was there," Dakar interrupted. "And what's more, you _did_ make yourself perfectly clear! I knew you were interested, and you know what? So was I!"

Again the mousemaid had the feeling of being slapped. "But . . . then why. . . ?"

"You mean Vanna?" Dakar said, raising an eyebrow. "Well, if you care to recall, I told you that I couldn't dance. She was teaching me how to perform such a feat. It was supposed to be a surprise for you."

Lily took a small step back. Suddenly it all became clear; the night Dakar came back late from the troupe's camp, all the times she's seen him and Vanna dancing together . . . she had only seen them dance together. Never once did they kiss.

A wave of shame washed over the mousemaid, and tears stung at her eyes. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

"Well, you should be," Dakar said coldly. "I can't believe you thought anything like that. Or that you acted that way."

"Dakar. . . ."

"And now I'm not so sure if I want to impress you anymore. You're not who I thought you were."

". . . and who did you think I was?"

The mousewarrior blinked at the mousemaid.

A change had come over Lily. His words . . . they were exactly what he said about Spring.

_You're not who I thought you were._

A spurge of anger suddenly erupted within her, and a torrent of words came out of her mouth.

"Who did you think I was?" she asked again, glaring at Dakar. "Somebeast who doesn't get jealous? Somebeast who doesn't get angry, or feel hurt, when they think the one they love is being unfaithful? Somebeast who doesn't need certain things explained to them?

"No! You never thought anything about that, because you never once considered me as a real actual creature! You only saw ideals about me, because you were too afraid to get close to me to see the real me! Oh, don't look at me like that, I heard you say that to Primrose, that you were too scared to pursue any relationship with me!"

"Oh," blinked Dakar. "You . . . you. . . ."

"Yes," Lily said harshly. "That also means that I saw you kissing Primrose as well! _Primrose!_ Who's like a daughter to me, too! For that reason, I should be saying _you're_ not who _I_ thought you were! But you know what? I was willing to forgive you for that, because I know that nobeast is perfect!

"And do you know what I just realized? I'll bet this was how it was with Spring, wasn't it? You thought that she was perfect, but when she showed the first little flaw, you got scared and ran off to become what you are today! You think a warrior, but you're not! You're a coward! You're _worse_ than a coward!"

And with that, the mousemaid turned and ran back home, sobbing, leaving Dakar standing alone.

* * *

It was sometime after sunset that a knock came at the cottage door. Lily went to answer it.

It was Vanna.

"Oh!" Lily said, taken by surprise. "Vanna! Um. . . ."

For a moment, the two females stared at one another.

Finally the mousemaid spoke. "I'm sorry."

"So am I."

Lily tilted her head. "For what? You didn't do anything wrong."

Vanna sighed. "Actually, I did. Sort of. I got in the way of a beautiful romance. You thought that Dakar and I were-"

"Well, I know that you weren't, now," Lily quickly put in. "And for that, and attacking you last night, I'm so sorry."

The squirrelmaid shrugged. "You thought I had stolen the love of your life. I'm surprised you didn't attack sooner." A small smile played about her lips.

Lily shook her head. "That still doesn't give me the right to attack you."

"Well, I certainly didn't try to take the high road, did I?" Vanna argued amiably. "I suppose we're both at fault, really."

"More my fault than your's."

"Well, I don't want it to end like that between us, so why don't we make up and be friends again, alright?"

"Alright," Lily smiled. "Oh, by the way, did you ever get that chap you told me about?"

The squirrelmaid suddenly giggled. "You bet I did! His name's Acorn, by the way. He's been with the troupe for awhile, always too shy to come near me. Until now, that is. Your attack on me last night got him going, so it all worked out for the best. I suppose I should've told you his name, otherwise you'd have never thought – well, you know. But that's alright, now that things are all cleared up. And now I suppose you and Dakar can start off too, just like us," she added with a grin.

Lily smiled again, but was a sad one. "No, I don't think so."

Vanna furrowed her brow. "What? Why?"

"I spoke with him earlier today. It didn't go over so well. We both said some things that hurt a lot."

"Oh, but they were just words! I'm sure if you just – I could speak to him, and tell him that I'm not mad at you. . . ."

Lily shook her head. "No. I don't think it was ever meant to be."

". . . I'm sorry."

"It's alright. Really. But now, why don't you come in for some tea or something?"

The squirrelmaid shook her head. "I can't. I . . . I've got to finish packing."

Lily raised her eyebrows. "Packing? Oh, you're not leaving-?"

"Not just me," Vanna explained. "The whole troupe. Ferdinand just now decided. He doesn't want to stay in the place that his mother died, it's too painful for him."

". . . when are you leaving?"

"He wants to leave tomorrow. The sooner the better. But it's alright, we'll return someday. He'll want to visit Madam's grave, make certain it's covered with plenty of flowers and kept in good repair."

While the squirrelmaid was speaking, her gaze traveled past Lily to the inside of the cottage. Merola had her back turned, but she was standing very stiffly. Petunia had her paw on Primrose's arm. The ferret looked stricken.

Vanna smiled sadly at the lot. "I'm sorry, but I'm not the one in charge of the troupe. But it's like I just said, we'll come back."

"Yes," Primrose said, her eyes turning red. "When we're old and decrepit, and unable to perform or do anything!"

"Oh, don't be silly!" Vanna said, coming in and putting her arms around the ferretmaid. However, the squirrel looked on the verge of tears herself. "We'll be back sooner than that! Much sooner! I, oh, sniff, oh dear. I must have a bit of a cold. Um . . . where's Pansy?"

"In her room, I suppose," Merola said, finally turning around. The old badger's eyes were turning pink as well.

"Oh, dear," said Lily. "How can we tell her? She'll be crushed."

"Let me tell her," Vanna said, heading for the door. "It'll hurt less coming from me."

The squirrel was gone for a moment before coming back out.

"She's not in there!"

Merola walked past Vanna into the bedroom. Almost immediately, her eyes fell on the open window.


	24. The Search

**Chapter 24**

The previous quiet dark that had settled over Noonvale now became alight with brightly-lit lanterns and calls for Pansy. Vanna had rushed back to the camp to tell the other Roaming Whimsical Players of the younger squirrelmaid's disappearance. Merola told Primrose and Petunia to go and ask the neighbors for help while she and Lily went looking in the woods.

Soon the night-air was filled with cries of "Pansy! Paaannnsssyyy! Where are you? Come on out, squirrel, you're needed back at home!"

Lily jogged through the dense forest, a shawl wrapped around her shoulders, one trembling paw holding a lantern up to light the way ahead of her.

"Pansy! Paaaaan-zzzziiiieeeee!!" the mousemaid shouted. "Where are you? Pansy! _Pansy!"_

Merola lumbered behind Lily, also shawl-clad and bearing a lantern. "Pansy! Pansy! Hi, you young rascal! Come out, now! You're scaring the lot of us! Pansy! Get your brush out here this minute, young rip!"

* * *

Many Noonvalers and Players were out searching, yelling and screaming the little squirrel's name. Those who weren't stood in the doorways of their homes, praying for Pansy's saftey.

Ruri the hedgehog was one such creature. She stood over the threshold of her cottage, one paw gripping her cane. Closing her eyes, the hedgehog muttered, "Pansy, you always were the most troublesome of your sisters. But this? I fear to know what the morning will bring."

* * *

After asking the help of many Noonvalers, Petunia took to searching for her sister on her own.

"Pansy! Paaaaaaan-zzzziiiiiieeeeeeee!!"

No answer came. Just her own call echoed back to her by all the other searchers. The haremaid's shoulders slumped. Why would Pansy run away? Especially after what happened this morning . . . they had all apologized and hugged each other. Everything had been smoothing over ever since then. That is, until–

"Petunia!"

The haremaid turned and saw Primrose running up to her.

"Any luck?" the ferretmaid gasped.

"If I had, I would've found her," Petunia snapped, suddenly irritated.

"You don't have to be mean," Primrose retorted.

The hare sighed. "Sorry. I'm just scared, you know?"

"I'm scared too. Listen, let's both look for her, alright? Look, everybeast is mostly looking over there, right? So let's go searching over here. . . ." The ferret took Petunia's paw and began leading her sister into one of the un-searched parts of the forest.

* * *

"Pansy!"

_"Pansy!"_

Vanna, Spiketipp, and Acorn the male squirrel wound their way around the village, swinging their lanterns here and there.

"Where could she have gone?" Spiketipp groaned as he brushed past some bushes.

"I have no idea," a flustered Vanna replied. "PAAAAANSY!"

* * *

"I do hope that," said Petunia as she and Primrose made their way through the dark forest, "while we're out searching for Pansy, we don't get lost ourselves."

"We won't get lost," assured Primrose, holding her lantern high. "We know where we are, right?"

"I don't!" Petunia said quickly. "I thought you were keeping track of where we are!"

The ferret rounded on her sister, her eyes widening. "What?! All this time I thought you, as the rear guard, were keeping an eye on things!"

The two sisters hugged each other and screamed. They were lost. . . .

But not for long.

"Ahoy there!"

Both maids sighed in relief. "Dakar!"

The mousewarrior came into the light of their lantern. "What's going on? What're you two doing out here?"

"Pansy's gone!" Petunia cried.

"What?"

"She's gone, she's disappeared," explained Primrose. "We don't know where she is, and we came into this part of the forest because nobeast else was looking here and we thought we should cover all ground–"

"Slow down," said Dakar. "And calm down, too. Slow down, calm down," he added soothingly.

Once the two maids settled down, the warrior took command.

"Alright, I'll lead you both back to the village. Primrose, once we get back, I want you to find Lily and tell her where we are and try to get as many villagers looking over here as well. Petunia, you and I are going to fetch our swords from the cottage and come back out here. We don't know what we'll run into out here in the dark."

* * *

Ferdinand the hare may have been mocked and ridiculed by Noonvaler and Whimsical Player alike. He may have had many clumsy moments. There may have even been times when he gave an outburst of ungraceful anger.

But he was much smarter than most creatures would have thought.

The hare wondered to himself why Pansy would suddenly disappear for no apparent reason. But the answer became clear enough: Vanna had went over to the cottage where Pansy lived to announce the departure of the troupe. The little squirrel had plenty of time to overhear the announcement and then sneak out a window.

Ferdinand then came to the conclusion that Pansy was somewhere in the troupe's encampment. He knew how much the squirrel loved being on the stage, dancing the night away. No doubt she was going to try and convince him to let the troupe stay.

But just where in the encampment would she be?

Ah, but of course. That question was easily answered as well. For a brief moment, the hare considered letting in some of the others on his thought, but then decided against it. This was his moment to be the victorious hero of the hour, to find the lost maiden. There was no use in letting others in take his glory.

* * *

"Lily!"

The mousemaid turned and saw Primrose running towards her.

"Have you found her?" she called.

"No," replied the ferret. "But Dakar and Petunia are searching in the parts of the forest that everybeast else hasn't looked in yet. We need to get other beasts to look over in that area too."

Lily suddenly felt a rush of affection for the warriormouse for helping, but swiftly ignored it and called to Merola.

"I heard," the badger yelled back. "Like I told you, my ears are as good as ever. You there, come with me. There are parts of the forest that haven't been searched yet."

Merola then headed towards the woods, a small group of Noonvalers trailing behind her.

Lily and Primrose squeezed paws before going off in different directions.

* * *

"Dakar?"

"Yes?"

"Earlier today . . . Vanna came by." Petunia wished that it were lighter, or that Dakar would hold the lantern so that she could see his face.

At first the warrior didn't answer. Then, "Oh, did she?" he answered in a nonchalant tone.

"She and Lily talked for awhile," the haremaid went on. "Lily said she was sorry about attacking her the other night, and Vanna said that it was alright."

"Oh. Well, that's good."

Petunia folded her lips inward, but pressed on. "Vanna said that she expected Lily to act like that, what with what she was thinking about . . . about you and Vanna."

The mouse didn't answer at all. He even quickened his pace and seemed much more keen on parting bushes and searching for tracks.

The haremaid sighed. "Lily also said that it wasn't going to happen between you and her."

Dakar froze. And for the first time, Petunia was afraid of him. For the longest space of time that was probably only a few seconds in reality, she thought he was going to spin around and hit her.

But he didn't. And Petunia's fear began to ebb.

"I'm sorry about that," the haremaid said softly. "You and Lily . . . you just seemed so perfect for each other."

She didn't notice, but Dakar's shoulders stiffened at the word "perfect."

"I've known Lily all my life," Petunia went on. "I've seen her happy many times in my life . . . but none of them were ever like how it was when you came into our lives. I saw the way she'd look at you, and I was always certain I'd see you doing the same thing. I'm sure you remind her of Uncle Markas in some ways, but there are many other things as to why she loves you."

"She doesn't love me."

The mouse had spoken so suddenly, so roughly, that the haremaid almost jumped. But somehow, Petunia only found herself emboldened to talk more.

"How can you say that?" she objected. "Of course she loves you–"

"No she couldn't. Not me."

Normally Dakar's voice was cheerful, easy-going. But now, it was hoarse, broken. And Petunia felt her heart going out to him.

"How can you doubt yourself like that?" she asked, stepping closer. "Yes, you made a mistake, there was a misunderstanding, but you can talk to her about it. She'll forgive you–"

"She couldn't. I don't deserve it."

Petunia couldn't believe it. Was this despairing creature really Dakar . . . and was he crying?! The haremaid, however, only threw her thoughts aside and embraced the warrior she had admired and loved for so long. He had been the Uncle Markas that she never knew, and nothing was going to change that!

"Shh, shh," she soothed. "It's alright. Everything's going to be okay. You'll see, I know Lily. She'll forgive you, no matter what."

"But I don't–"

Petunia suddenly grabbed Dakar's shoulders and whirled him around. "No! Don't start that. I won't have it! Now listen, Dakar, I have never heard of a warrior who cried just because of a little misunderstanding. Life isn't perfect, alright? It's a fact that we all have to face sooner or later.

"I mean, I didn't want to have any of those dance lessons or go to any of those rehearsals or be in any of those plays, did I? No! I didn't! But I went through them, just the same, because it would've done me no good complaining about it. And didn't you tell me that those lessons would help me with my sword-practicing? Didn't you? Yes, you did!

"We've come full circle, you and I. At first it was me whining about having to audition for some play, and you were helping me through it. And now, its you who's crying about some mistakes that were done, and it's me who's going to help you through it!

"Now come on; be a warrior and stop this nonsense!"

Both creatures stood silently, trembling slightly. The haremaid was stunned at herself for this sudden outburst, yet she managed not to show it as she gazed up into Dakar's eyes.

The mousewarrior's eyes continued to look teary for a moment longer . . . but then they blinked, and they were steady again.

Taking a deep breath, the mousewarrior said, "Thank you, Petunia. You're right. About a lot of those things, actually. We really have come full circle, haven't we?"

The haremaid could only smile.

* * *

Ferdinand entered his mother's tent, the one place he figured most likely Pansy to be hiding.

And sure enough, there she was, crouched in one of the corners among the scattered pillows.

"Pansy! What are you doing here, everybeast is out looking for you!" Ferdinand said, walking towards her. "Lily is so worried, you'd better come with me–"

"No."

The squirrelmaid stood up, looking the hare dead in the eye. "That is, I do want to come with you – but not back to Lily. I want to come with the troupe when you leave."

Ferdinand froze. "Wh . . . what?"

"You heard me. I know that the troupe is leaving. So I have to go with you."

"Now hold on, young un, this is completely – your mother is worried sick about you-!"

"Lily's not my mother. Yes, true, she took care of me all my life, and I'll be forever grateful for it. But it's for the best of us all if I come with you."

"And just _how_ will it be for the best–"

"Please," Pansy said, a slight tremor in her voice. "You can't leave me here. This isn't the life for me. I wasn't born for a quiet life in a peaceful little valley. I was born to dance, and going with you is the only way I'll be able to fulfill it. I have to dance. I _need_ to dance. I need to be on a stage and dance in front of animals, just like how I did when I played Coral. You saw me last night, I was good. I was really, really good."

Ferdinand nodded. "Yes, you were–"

"Your mother – I'm sorry to bring her up, but I must – she called for me just before she di– passed away. She said that she was done teaching me, that I couldn't learn anything else, but I know that that's not true. With all due respect to her, Ferdinand, she was wrong in saying I didn't need any more coaching. I do. I really do. And that's where you come in."

The hare was flabbergasted. Was this really wild, cheeky Pansy that was standing so stiffly before him, speaking with a serious yet determined voice? His lip trembled a bit at the mention of his mother, but somehow, being here in her tent, it somehow seemed . . . right to be discussing her.

"And how do I come in?" Ferdinand asked Pansy as calmly as he could.

"You can teach me. You were Madam Breeze's son, surely she must've taught you all that she knew! You can teach me those things – and I swear I'll never reveal any of them to anybeast, not unless you permit me too. Please, say you'll let me come with you and your troupe. Your mother would've wanted it. She told me herself that I was destined to be a truly remarkable dancer; even better than she. She said so herself! But I can't be a dancer if I stay here. Please, Ferdinand, please, please say you'll let me come with! _Please!"_

* * *

The search for Pansy continued.

Otters started diving into the lakes and ponds in search of Pansy's body. Many other beasts stood at the edges, holding their lanterns high to aid the otters in their search. Primrose was among those who stood at the edge of one of the lakes, also holding her lantern high.

Suddenly a line of bubbles came towards the ferretmaid, and a whiskery muzzle surfaced.

"Rogak," Primrose called. "Did you find anything?"

"No," the big otter replied. "But I suppose that's good news. It means your sister hasn't drowned."

The ferretmaid bit her lip at the idea. Rogak looked up from his position in the water and saw that Primrose had tears in her eyes. The large otter swam to the bank, hoisted himself up, and shook himself dry (a good distance away from Primrose, lest he soak her).

Walking over to her, Rogak placed his arms around the beautiful ferret's slim form. "Hey," he whispered. "None of that. We'll find her. You've got nothing to worry about."

Primrose tried to smile, but she couldn't. Instead she leaned her head against Rogak's chest and sobbed. The big, kind otter hugged her tighter, rubbing the back of her head tenderly, although all the while he was careful not to crush her.

* * *

Dakar suddenly put his arm out, stopping his companion in her footsteps. "Do you hear that?"

Petunia's long ears stood on end. She did. "It sounds like . . . like somebeast is being attacked!"

The haremaid shot off, terrifying visions of her sister being beaten - or worse, _killed_ - by vermin forming in her mind, when Dakar's arm came out once again and stopped her.

"Augh! Let me go, we have to help her!"

"We don't know if that really is your sister," hissed Dakar. "And we don't know if somebeast is really being attacked! For all we know, it could be an ambush! Now don't start shooting off before we've had time to assess the situation. Come on, where's that sensible warriormaid that was here just a second ago?"

Petunia bit her lip, but knew that he was right.

"Now come on," Dakar whispered. "Keep quiet. We'll follow the sounds until we get close. And when we do, you may want to put that light out. Don't want to draw any unnecessary attention to ourselves, do we?"

The haremaid did as she was told, skulking after the mousewarrior through the dark woods. It was not long before they saw a light from up ahead. Dakar made the signal to Petunia to put out their lantern, but the haremaid was way ahead of him. Cautiously, the two made their way forward. Already they could make out the words that were being said:

"C'mon, yew great big lump! Show us were yew keep yer treasure, eh?"

"I don't have any treasures, you fools, I'm just an old traveler–"

"Hah! Yer old, alright! Old an' fat, that's what ye are! Lookit that great big belly!"

"I'll bet 'e's got a whole 'orde of fine foods an' wine an' stuff."

"Aye, an' 'e won't share it wi' us! Ain't that bad manners, mates?"

"Yew said it, Grubby! An' 'e's rude, too. 'E called us fools, didn' 'e?"

"I'm warning you lot, you better shove off, or I'll – _oof!"_

The vermin laughed.

"Yew'll what? Yew'll jiggle? Jus' like wot yer doin' right now?"

Finally, Dakar and Petunia came up behind a thick tree that hid them from view as they carefully peaked around to see what was going on.

There, in the middle of a small clearing, was an old male mouse, surrounded by a band of rats and weasels, all armed to the teeth with rusty-looking cutlasses. Some held torches, illuminating the scars and tattoos that riddled their bodies. Petunia felt a shiver pass through her. She had never seen an actual vermin in her life (except, of course, for Primrose, but she didn't really count). She had heard stories of what such creatures looked like, and imagined them in her head. But these ones were very large, very real, and seemed to radiate an aura of evilness about them.

Dakar reached back and grasped her paw. "Don't be afraid," he whispered.

The haremaid watched, horrified, as the old mouse tried to defend himself, but was sorely outnumbered and surrounded. One of the rats dodged a swing from the mouse, punching him in the stomach while a weasel hit the poor thing upside the head with his sword-hilt.

The mouse fell to the ground in a heap, dropping his weapon and clutching at the back of his skull, moaning feebly.

The biggest vermin, a wild-looking weasel, said to two of the rats, "Get a fire goin'! If'n 'e won't tell us where 'is food is, we'll take wot's in that great big paunch of 'is!"

Petunia felt her stomach churn. Her paws felt shaky, but they were squeezed once again by Dakar.

"Listen," the mousewarrior hissed in her ear. "Stay here. I'm going to go around on the other side. We can attack them from both sides. When I give the signal, jump out, screaming like you're a madbeast and show no mercy - 'cept to me and the old one, that is."

He turned to leave, only to have the haremaid seize his arm.

"But, shouldn't we go back and get help?" she whispered anxiously. "We'd be outnumbered, and I haven't been sword-practicing for a week—"

"There's no time to go back, they'll probably have killed him by then," Dakar interrupted. "And being outnumbered is what happens a lot in real situations like this. But we have the element of surprise, so we stand a fighting chance. There's no other beast I'd want at my side besides you right now. Also," he added with a grin. "You can think of this as that sword lesson I owe you."

And before she could utter any more doubt, he was off.

Petunia could only sit and watch as the old mouse was tethered up with thick rope. Already the vermin were arguing over which parts of their prey they were going to devour.

"I get to 'ave 'is belly."

"Yew? Why do you get to 'ave 'is belly? I haven't had a decent meal in weeks! I get to 'ave is belly!"

"Nobeast is gettin' that food-filled paunch except me!" roared the weasel-leader. "'sides, there's plenty of fat on the rest of 'im. Like 'is arms and legs. An' lookit that neck!"

The haremaid felt as though she were about to vomit. It was different when she and her sisters played such gruesome games, because it was all just make-believe. But these creatures, they were seriously going to go through with this! It was just awful, sitting there and listening to the vermin as they discussed how they were going to eat that poor mouse–

_"Yaaaaaaaaaaahhhh!!"_

In a flash, Dakar charged out from the opposite side of the trees. His eyes rolling madly, the mousewarrior swung and stabbed at the vermin, who squawked in surprise and began to fight back. Within moments two rats and a weasel fell beneath his sword.

Petunia suddenly realized that this was it. She pulled her sword from its sheath and ran full-speed into the fray. It was strange, because it seemed like none of her movements she was doing on her own. It was as if her body was acting for her, remembering all by itself how to lift and turn a sword, how to ward off an attack, how to dodge a stab and a swing, and how to swing one's own sword.

Blood splashed across her face, but Petunia barely registered it. She was here, now she was there, ducking and dodging, leaping and stabbing, taking each of the vermin down one by one. A sudden feeling of elation swept through the haremaid when she suddenly saw the weasel-leader running towards the old mouse.

Petunia hurtled after him, the war-cry of the Long Patrol hares that she admired so much ripping its way from her lips as she brought down her sword – just as the weasel-leader spun his sword around to ward her off.

_"Eulalaiaaaaaaaa!!"_


	25. The Return

**Chapter 25**

Lily sat alone on the steps of her cottage. The mousemaid was wrapped in a warm blanket, looking despairingly out into the darkness. Would she never see Pansy again? Or worse, what if something bad happened to somebeast while they were out looking?

"Lily!"

The mousemaid turned her head and saw Primrose and Rogak jogging up to her. She stood up, fearing the worst: that they had found the little squirrel's dead body. . . .

"Nothing," Primrose said, stifling Lily's fears somewhat.

"Not a trace," put in Rogak. "We don't know where she could've gone."

Lily huddled herself up, tears forming in her eyes. Primrose hurried to her side and hugged her, whispering soothing words to her.

Just then Merola came out of the shadows, huffing and puffing. "Couldn't find her," she wheezed as Rogak helped her sit down next to Lily. "The others told me they'd continue the search without me. Said I needed be Lily's moral support, but I know better. They didn't think I could last very long out there. Well . . . they were right. I'm not as young as I used to be, I can't be expected to be wandering about in the woods late at night while ruthless little roots keep tripping me up and stubbing my feet! Ooh, that Pansy! As soon as we find her I'm going to be dusting the entire cottage with her brush, I will!"

Lily sniffled, and the old badger's face softened. "Well, not before I let you smother her with hugs and kisses first," she reassured the mousemaid.

For a moment, all was silent. Everybeast was thinking of Pansy.

"I hate to think of her out there alone, though," Merola admitted. "She must be lost, all alone. How afraid she must be. . . ."

"Pansy's not afraid of anything," Lily put in, finally speaking. "That's what frightens me."

"Oh, I can't believe she'd go off and get herself lost," said Primrose.

"Wait, who's lost?"

"Pansy," Lily, Merola, Primrose, and Rogak all said, glancing back at Pansy, who had just walked up.

Then they all whirled around, screaming, _"Pansy!"_

The startled squirrelmaid was then tackled by the four larger creatures and embraced into smothering hugs. "Augh! Hey, I can't breathe! Come off it! What is it with you creatures? Has all of Noonvale gone insane?!"

Finally the other creatures stepped back, except for Lily, who gave Pansy a sound shaking. "What were you thinking?" she shouted. "How could you have done that to us?! We were worried sick, we thought you had gotten lost or killed or–"

"Hold on!" screamed Pansy, jerking herself free. "What are you talking about? Didn't you get my letter? I left it on my pillow, saying I was going to go talk to Ferdinand!"

The four other beasts blinked. Then Lily, Merola, and Primrose remembered that none of them had ever bothered to search the bedroom for any notes. It can be said that the three females felt very ashamed of themselves.

For a moment, nobeast said a word. Finally Rogak announced that he would begin telling the other searchers that Pansy was back home, safe and sound.

After the otter was gone, Lily turned to Pansy with an inquisitive look. "Why would you want to go and see Ferdinand, Pansy? I know he won't let the troupe stay if you asked him."

"I didn't ask him to stay," the squirrelmaid explained brightly. "I asked him to take me with them!"

_"What?!"_

"Yes," Pansy continued on. "I went and stayed in Madam Breeze's tent because I didn't know where Ferdinand slept, so I figured it was best to look there first. And I was right, because I did run into him there, and I asked him to let me come along with the troupe as a dancer. I had to do a bit of convincing, I even told him his mother would've wanted it – which is true, because Madam told me more than once that I was going to be a remarkable dancer, just like her. And what better way to honor the one who taught me than to continue on her legacy in the very troupe she created?"

Lily had both paws on her cheeks. She slowly started to shake her head. "You can't go, Pansy."

"And why not?" challenged the squirrelmaid. "You've seen me dance. I was _born_ to dance! This isn't the life for me, here in Noonvale. Lily, I love you, and love it here, but I don't want to _live_ here. I _can't_ live here! I wasn't meant for this kind of lifestyle, I'm not a peaceful farmer! I was meant to be a dancer, and what better way to do that than in a traveling entertainment troupe?"

"When I thought you had left," Lily softly said. "I panicked. I was thrown into disarray. I didn't know where you were–"

"But you would know where I am this time!" objected Pansy. "I'd be with The Roaming Whimsical Players! And they're not strangers, they're our friends! They're kind, wonderful beasts! They all are: Ferdinand, Vanna, Spiketipp, Rogak, I couldn't be with better beasts on my journey. Don't you see? I won't be alone!"

"That's right. She won't."

All eyes turned to Primrose. The ferretmaid had an odd, determined look about her. She went and stood by Pansy's side, taking her arm in hers'.

"She won't be alone, because I'll be with her."

_"What?"_ gasped Lily.

"Lily, it's the only way," Primrose quickly said. "The troupe is leaving, and – and Pansy's already explained it, for herself and for me! I wasn't born for a life in Noonvale either. I was born to be an actress, and the only way how I can accomplish this is to become a member of The Roaming Whimsical Troupe. And it's like Pansy said, we won't be among badbeasts. Ferdinand and Rogak are _goodbeasts_, Vanna and Spiketipp too! The entire troupe is wonderful! Can't you see?

"We've been given opportunity, and we can't let it slip by."

The poor mousemaid was completely flustered. She stood there, breathing hard, looking from one maid to the other. Finally she turned to Merola for help, when suddenly:

"Ahoy there!"

Somehow the sound of Dakar's trademark call made Lily come to her senses. She called out, "We found Pansy, she's back!"

"Oh good," came the mousewarrior's answer. "That means that we'll have time to get this one fixed up."

Lily blinked. 'This one'? 'Fixed up'? What. . . ?

But her unasked question was answered when a blood-splattered Dakar and Petunia stumbled into view, holding in between them an unconscious old mouse.

Lily, Primrose, and Pansy gasped at the sight. Merola, however, darted forward, her usual strength having returned after her brief rest. The old badgermum scooped the old mouse into her arms and took him inside the cottage. Petunia rushed forward and embraced Pansy, and the three sisters shared a hug.

While the three maidens exchanged stories of what happened to each other during the night, Lily and Dakar turned and looked at one another. Their eyes met. Lily suddenly felt the urge to be within his blood-soaked arms and break down into tears–

"Lily!"

The mousemaid jerked her head around at the sound of Merola's shout. "What?" she yelled back.

"Come here! Quick! Get in here!"

Confused, the mousemaid nevertheless raced into the cottage, Dakar and the three maids at her heels.

"What is, what's the mat–" Lily's inquiry was cut off by her own gasp of shock.

"What? What is it, what's wrong?" Dakar questioned, gripping her arm.

"It's . . . Uncle Markas."

* * *

**A/N:** THE BIGGEST SHOCKER OF 'EM ALLLLLLL!

....just kidding. You all already figured that one out. Bet you didn't figure Primrose's decision out, though, did ya? ;)


	26. Another Apology

**Chapter 26**

His lids fluttered. He squeezed his eyes. His lips parted as he gave a groan.

A feminine gasp assaulted his ears. "I think he's waking up!"

There was a flurry of footsteps, and he got the impression that several pairs of eyes were on him.

"What's happened?" he asked, squinting in the light when he opened his own pair of eyes. "Where am I? What . . . _Lily?"_

"Good morning, Uncle Markas," smiled the mousemaid, beaming down at him. "Oh, you might not want to touch your head like that. We just got the bandages on it."

"Wha . . . buh . . . goodness, you've gotten thin!"

A triumphant snort entered Markas's hearing range, but he was distracted by Lily's comically irate face.

"I've always been thin!" she snapped.

"You haven't been gray before," Markas countered, and another triumphant snort was heard. The old mouse turned and beheld a towering female badger.

"Why, Merola!" the old warrior cried. "Good to see you, old friend. Well, now I know why my poor niece is so thin," he added, looking over the badger's fat figure.

Merola gave a growl, but a sudden loud laugh blocked it out. Markas turned in the direction of the laugh, and beheld three teenage maidens.

"Who are they?" he asked, blinking.

Each maiden revealed her own name:

"Primrose."

"Petunia."

"Pansy."

Uncle Markas's eyes widened. "But . . . but I brought _babies_ home!"

"Babies grow up, Uncle," Lily reminded him.

"Yes, they certainly do . . . though how they ever managed to accomplish that with this one in the house," he added, giving Merola's figure another look, "I'll never know."

Pansy gave another shrill giggle and flounced over towards her legendary uncle. "You really _are_ brave, Uncle Markas!" she chirped. "Nobeast would ever say such things to Merola!"

"Well, Merola and I have a bit of an understanding," Markas began to explain, but was interrupted by the badger.

"You certainly haven't grown thin during your travels! Just what have you been up to all these seasons?"

"Well, I suppose I do owe my family a bit of an explanation, don't I? Well, then let me start: after I had left Noonvale all those seasons ago, I headed west. Met a few beasts on my travels, decent creatures they were. Rescued a vole family when their house caught on fire, helped repair it, too, I might add. But I ended up coming upon the western shoreline, where a gang of sea otters were about to go on a voyage to visit some of their relatives. So I ended up coming along, when suddenly a violent storm came upon us. There are few things less terrifying than being out in the middle of the ocean during a storm, my dears."

"And then what happened?" asked Pansy, wide-eyed.

"Well might you ask, miss Pansy," Uncle Markas replied. "Well, we were eventually washed ashore upon a tropical-looking island. Beautiful place, it was. But our ship was in horrible disrepair. So we rolled up our sleeves and set to working on it, when suddenly we were set upon by a tribe of savage weasels. We barely had time to defend ourselves. Myself and a few others managed to escape, but we were all bent on retrieving our comrades. Unfortunately, some of them didn't survive, but most of them we were able to rescue.

"But there was still the matter of repairing our boat. No matter how many times we tried, the weasels weren't about to let us escape. They ended up destroying the ship beyound repair. We had no other way of getting off the island - or at least, _I_ didn't. I couldn't swim like the otters could, nor could I endure the sea's unforgiving coldness, as they could. I told the otters to just rescue themselves, but they were much too grateful to me for helping them rescue their friends. So, like the brave-hearted creatures that they were, they stuck it out with me on that island, fighting against the weasels and building a raft in a secret cave.

"It took some time, until finally we were able to get off that wretched island, and we set sail for the homes of the otter's relatives. There we held a proper ceremony for the funeral of all the otters who died on that island. After that, came a much better life. The otters that we were visiting lived on an island as well, only it was much bigger, vermin-free, a plentiful with food. I was never thin to begin with, my dears, Lily and Merola can vouch for that, but after all those seasons on that wonderful island, I make my past-self look as thin as a willow-wand!"

Pansy and her sisters giggled.

"So all this time," Merola said. "You've been lazing about on an island, stuffing yourself silly while we've been here, worrying about your saftey?!"

"If you call fending for your life while being hunted down by a tribe of ravenous weasels 'lazing about'," the old warriormouse replied cooly. "Besides, if you'd have been on that otter-island, you'd have lost track of time, too. Now if you don't mind, I would like to look over my nieces, and see how they've blossomed. Ah, Pansy," he went on, smiling at the squirrelmaid. "You've gotten to be a pretty creature! So grown up, too!"

"If you think _I'm_ grown up, wait till you see Primrose!" grinned Pansy. And with that, she pulled her sister forward.

Markas's eyes widened. "Goodness," he breathed, looking the ferretmaid up and down. "Primrose, is that you? The fuzzy little ball of fur with sticky paws?"

"Oh, Uncle, really," the ferretmaid laughed. She leaned forward and gave the old mouse a hug.

"I certainly hope you haven't been getting any unwanted attention from any of the young males around here," Markas said, winking roguishly.

"Oh, stop! I've had plenty of nagging from _them_, thank you," Primrose said, gesturing at Lily and Merola.

"Well, I'm just looking out for my niece," Uncle Markas assured her. "Now where is Petunia? I want to see how she looks."

The haremaid came shyly forward, suddenly self-conscious and worried about what her uncle would think of her appearance. She had just barely managed to scrub all the blood out of her fur and wiped her mouth of all traces of last night's vomit.

However, Markas smiled and said, "Lovely. Give your old uncle a kiss."

Petunia obliged, giving her uncle a smiling peck on the cheek. Pansy, not to be outdone, gave Markas a smooch on the other one. Primrose, for the sake of not being left out, kissed him on the forehead.

"Now this is the type of welcome I was looking forward to!" the old mouse proclaimed, and they all laughed. "Now come on, let's all get comfortable. I've told you what's happened to me. What've you all been doing with yourselves for the past . . . er. . . ."

"Eleven seasons, Markas."

"Has it really been eleven seasons, Merola? Well, I'll be blown. Oh well. Let's get on with the story-telling!"

* * *

Uncle Markas gave a sigh of contentment as he leaned back comfortably into the couch. "An actress and a dancer, eh? I hadn't any idea I had brought home such gifted creatures! And what about you, young missy?" he asked, turning to Petunia. "Has there been anything on the stage that intrigues you?"

"Petunia? On the stage? _Our_ Petunia?" sputtered Pansy. "Hah! No way. She wants to be a Long Patroller!"

"A Long Patroller?" Markas said, raising his eyebrows approvingly at the haremaid. "Well, that's certainly a noble ambition! I'm sure you'd be good at it!"

"She would be."

Markas turned in the direction of the new (and male) voice. He beheld a young, tall, sturdy-looking mouse standing over the threshold of the cottage.

"And who might you be?" the old warrior inquired.

"He's Dakar," Pansy said. "He's been staying with us for about a season now. He's been giving Petunia sword-lessons."

Markas blinked. "Staying here? But . . . that means. . . ." the old mouse turned accusing eyes to Lily and Merola. "My bed! You let a complete stranger sleep in my–"

"When you've been gone for ten seasons," boomed Merola. "You lose privilege over what bed is yours'."

"I thought it was eleven seasons," mused Markas.

"He arrived in the tenth season you were gone!" the old badger shouted. "Pansy just said he's been staying with us for a season!"

". . . Oh. Right."

"I'm sorry, sir," Dakar apologized, walking over. "But allow me to draw the conversation back to Petunia – she saved your life last night."

"What?" said not only Markas, but also Lily, Merola, Primrose and Pansy.

Dakar grinned. "I'm pretty sure you recall those vermin who attacked you, sir?" he asked Markas.

"Well – yes, I do." The old mouse suddenly turned fawningly to the blushing haremaid. "Do you mean to tell me my little flower beat up a whole group of vermin just to save me?"

"I . . . did have some help," Petunia mumbled, smiling at Dakar.

"And do you know something else, Petunia?" the young mousewarrior went on. "Remember that day when we were getting water from the well? When I first came here? You said that when you were little, you used to imagine yourself saving your uncle from a band of vermin who were about to cook him."

The haremaid blinked. Then her eyes began to widen. "It came true!"

The others gaped.

"Remarkable," murmured Markas. "Though, Petunia dear, next time you start imagining things, do you think you could try to come up with something that didn't involve me nearly getting eaten?"

"I'll try," laughed Petunia.

"Dakar!" gasped Lily."You didn't tell us that Pansy fought any of the vermin last night! She might've been killed!"

"Well, she wasn't!" Markas stated. "And neither was I, nor was this fellow here. We all made it, and Noonvale doesn't have any vermin wandering around its borders. We owe our lives and safety to you, Petunia!"

"Yes, indeed we do," said Merola, placing a paw on the haremaid's shoulder. "And you too, Dakar. Thank you. Both of you, thank you."

"And to think," said Pansy, "that I wasn't around to see it! Oh, of all the bad luck."

"Well," put in Primrose. "It was your running off was what got Petunia in that right part of the woods."

"And it was you, Prim," said Petunia, smiling. "Who made me go in that direction. So we all helped."

"Well," said Markas, standing up and stretching. "I guess that settles it. Pansy and Primrose will be going off with this troupe of theirs, and Petunia will be off to Salamandastron to become one of those Long Patrollers. Noble creatures, they are."

"Have you met any, Uncle Markas?" Petunia asked hopefully.

"Met them! Hah, you can bet your ears I met them! In fact, I'm on pretty good terms with some of them. So I suppose I'll be the one to take you down there."

"What?" cried Lily. "You, take Petunia all the way down to–"

"I've still got another adventure within me!" the old warrior proclaimed, standing taller. "And what better way to end my adventures than to lead my niece to the place where she'll get her start as the greatest warriormaid the world has ever seen?"

Petunia flushed but smiled.

Lily, on the other paw, shook her head. "But . . . but . . . you couldn't possibly go on another journey, Uncle!"

"Not go on another journey? I survived being in a seastorm, being hunted down by a tribe of weasels, and a blow to the head last night, didn't I? And I am oldbeast, even though I don't really like to think it! Besides, I'm sure Petunia will help me along the way, won't you, dear? We can look out for one another."

"Yes, we can!" the haremaid nodded excitedly, taking her uncle's arm in hers'.

Lily blinked and continued to shake her head. "But . . . but. . . ." The poor mousemaid was filled with some fearsome mixed feelings. Pansy and her uncle had only recently returned after being away, only to leave again, and Primrose and Petunia were going with them. As much as she wanted her family to be happy, Lily knew that her heart was being broken.

"Um, excuse me? May I have a word with Miss Lily alone, please?"

The mousemaid blinked, and turned to look at Dakar.

So did the others.

"What do you want with my niece, young sir?" Markas asked sharply.

The others, however, grinned. "It's alright, Uncle. We'll explain outside. Come along, now."

And so, Uncle Markas was bore off out the door, which was carefully shut by a giggling Pansy. Who tried to keep it open a sliver, only to receive a harsh reprimand from the others. With a huff, the squirrelmaid shut the door all the way.

Lily and Dakar were alone.

The mousemaid folded her paws and tried her best not to tremble. "Well, what is it? What do you want to say to me?"

The young warriormouse was silent for a moment. Then he spoke.

"I'm sorry."

"For what? For not sinking your claws into me any deeper?"

Dakar winced at the replay of his harsh words. "No. Listen, please. I never meant to hurt you like that. I. . . ."

He trailed off, staring as Lily slowly turned her back on him. Nevertheless, he took a deep breath and pressed on.

"I know now that you're not perfect. You were right. About everything. You . . . you thought I was with Vanna, and you were jealous. You were hurt, and I never meant to make you think that way. All I wanted was to show you I could dance, and . . . well, I guess it didn't work out very well, did it?"

The mousemaid said nothing.

"But – about Primrose . . . where's she's concerned . . . I never meant for it to happen. I. . . ."

He trailed off again. Lily still had her back to him.

Finally Dakar took the deepest breath he had ever taken.

"I love you."

Lily's shoulders stiffened.

Dakar went on. "I love you, though you may not believe it. But I really do love you. That was why I wanted to learn how to dance. You . . . you took me in when I was but a stranger, and not only that, but you bandaged me up and fed me and gave me a bed to sleep in. No other creature has ever been that kind to me.

"And during the whole time I was living here, under the same roof with you, it was almost like we were married with three children. Three very wonderful children. And I didn't realize how much I loved it until . . . until that one night, at the ball, remember?

"And I . . . I remembered how I hadn't gone to the ball because I couldn't dance. I wanted to impress you, to romance you. I wanted to start a courtship, but . . ." He sighed. "That one night, after the play, when you . . . you were right. It was just like with Spring. I put you on a pedestal, thought you were incapable of anything bad. Which is why it came as such a shock when you . . . showed an imperfection that night. And I, being the coward that I was, lost interest.

"But it was only temporary, I swear! Because . . . after you guessed about what happened with Spring . . . I began to miss you. Terribly. I wanted it to be like the way it was, before all the trouble began. I wanted to be with you so much. And I . . . I came to terms with the fact that you aren't perfect. I know that you can get jealous, that you can get hurt, that you can come to the wrong conclusion, that you can get angry and sometimes lash out . . . but I still love you, and I . . . still . . . still want to . . . marry you."

Finally Lily turned around. There were tears in her eyes.

She held out her arms.

Dakar practically ran to her and flung his own arms around her, and both mice broke down into tearful happiness as they shared their first kiss.

After a moment or two, Dakar whispered in Lily's ear, "Do you want me to show you how much dancing I've learned so far?"

The mousemaid gave a watery chuckle, and nodded.

The male mouse placed his right paw on her waist. She placed her left paw on his shoulder. They both joined their other paws.

Soon Dakar was leading Lily on a slow yet graceful waltz.

The mousemaid sighed and placed her head against his shoulder. "It's a shame there isn't any music."

For a moment, silence reigned again.

But only for a moment.

From a partially open window came the sound of slightly off-key humming. Primrose, Petunia, Pansy, Merola, and Markas, who had been eavesdropping the whole time, were trying to give the two mice some music to dance to.

Lily and Dakar stared at the window before breaking down into laughter.

"Oh well," Lily giggled. "They were all not very good at singing, anyway."

* * *

**A/N:** Welp, people, this is the second-to-last chapter. After the next chapter is uploaded, this fic will be done.

Also, do any of you recall the three necklaces Markas left the three maidens? He said that each necklace had a story behind them. He's going to reveal in the next chapter.


	27. The End

**Chapter 27**

Ferdinand was convinced to let the troupe stay a week longer to help prepare for the wedding of Lily and Dakar. Eager though he was to leave, the hare agreed that they couldn't leave before they saw the wedding of the guardian of two of his troupe-members. So he contented himself with "taking charge" of the situation.

"Firm's the grip and stands the action, chaps!" the lanky hare shouted to his creatures, back to his old authoritative mood. "You there, put more flowers here. And you, make certain there are more chairs of over there, just in case. I say, young rip! What do you think you are doing, nibbling those raspberries! Get back to work!"

The young squirrel hung his head as he put down the bowl of raspberries and hurried off. Then, looking this way and that, Ferdinand scooped up the bowl and began wolfing down the berries.

* * *

Among all the hustle and bustle, Merola made the announcement that she would be going with Primrose and Pansy in the troupe.

"Somebeast has got to keep an eye on them," the old badger stated, "and make certain that Ferdinand's manners don't rub off on them! I can't go with Petunia and Markas; a journey to Salamandastron isn't for me. Plus, I don't have to worry about our little haremaid, she's the responsible one, and she's going to a place where she'll be further disciplined. She has no need of me. Besides, a newly-wed couple deserves to have the house all to themselves."

"But what about all the babies they'll have?" Markas asked slyly.

"Lily has raised three very fine babies," Merola said. "I'm sure she doesn't need my help with her own. And her children will have Dakar as their father. Besides, there are plenty of other good parents here in Noonvale."

"Oh dear," wept Lily as she flung her arms around her nanny. "I'm going to miss you, you old stripedog!"

"Don't call me 'stripedog'," Merola replied, but she too had tears in her eyes.

* * *

It was the morning of the wedding.

Primrose, Petunia, and Pansy stood in their room, each clad in what their intended to wear for the day: Primrose wore a white dress embroidered with deep red roses and trimmed with ruffles. Petunia wore a dress of pale yellow and green leaves. Pansy's lacy dress was a rich purple with a magenta waistsash.

Each maiden was wearing the necklace left to them from Uncle Markas those eleven seasons ago. It was a funny thing, because Markas had said in his letter that each necklace had a story. A story that he would tell them when they were older. They had decided to ask him what the stories were before they parted ways.

The old mouse grinned when they asked him, and, with a twinkle in his eye, revealed each jewelry's tale:

"First," he said, holding up Primrose's turquoise necklace, "this one belongs to a ferret of ravishing beauty who is an extraordinary actress.

"And this," he continued, holding up Petunia's pearl one, "belongs to a hare who is one of the greatest warriormaids history would ever know.

"And finally," the old warrior finished, lifting Pansy's coral, "this one is the property of a brightly-colored, delightfully feisty squirrel who is more graceful than poetry on wind."

The three maids thought it rather unfair at first that their uncle had made them think all these seasons that their jewelry once belonged to other beasts, such as queens and warlords. But in the end they decided that it was rather clever of him to do such a thing.

"Well," sighed Petunia, turning to her sisters. "This is it."

"Yes," giggled Pansy, hopping up and down. "Lily and Dakar are _finally _getting married! Heeheehee!"

"No, I mean . . . this is the last time we'll ever get to see each other."

The squirrelmaidstopped and stared at her adoptive sister.

Primrose, however, looked indignant. "What are you talking about? Sure, we'll be able to see each other again! You may be going to one particular place, but me and Pansy are going to be in a _roaming_ troupe! We'll be able to drop by and pay our respects when you become General of the Long Patrol!"

"But who knows when that'll happen?" Petunia said, sitting down on the bed that had been hers for almost all her life. "You'll have to make several camps and stop at so many villages to perform, and how long will you stay at those villages? It could be _seasons_ before you're able to come by Salamandastron."

It was in that moment that both Primrose and Pansy realized, for the first time, how much their sister was giving up. They were going to be in a large of creatures that were their friends, they would still have Merola with them, and they would still have at least one sister with them.

But Petunia . . . Petunia was completely alone on her road. She had no friend with her, no family members, no sister. . . .

"But you'll have Uncle Markas with you!" Pansy objected, flouncing down next to the haremaid. "He'll keep you company. Frankly, I envy you, having him all to yourself! You'll be able to find out what went on with him and that princess!"

The three sisters laughed; still Merola forbade the old mouse from telling them the princess story.

"Well, when you put it like that," Petunia admitted. It certainly would be interesting to have a parent-figure all to herself for once.

"And you know something else?" Pansy said, standing up. "You won't have to worry about never seeing us again, because you'll know that we'll be praying for you, that you'll be a success in the Long Patrol! . . . and you know what else? I think it's time for one final vow."

"Yes, that's a great idea!" Primrose agreed, beaming.

_"I'll _be the one to say the vow this time," the squirrelmaid quickly put in. "Petunia got to say the first one, then Primrose said the second. It's only natural that I should say the last one."

Petunia nodded. "Of course."

And so, they all stood in a circle, ready to make their final vow.

Pansy held out her paw, but she was silent for a moment. Her sisters patiently waited, figuring Pansy wanted her first speech to be perfect.

Finally, the squirrelmaid began speaking:

"We _two_ flowers vow

To use our gifts and talents

For the good and benefit

Of others, as well as ourselves.

However, as we are but

An actress and a dancer,

It is unlikely that we will

Ever get the chance to do

Anything extraordinary to

Help the world.

Which is why we also vow

To pray nightly

(And during the day,

If need be)

That our sister will be able

To do such a thing

As a Long Patroller."

Primrose spoke, placing her paw on Pansy's, her eyes beginning to water:

"Because she is ours,

And ours alone."

Pansy spoke, placing her other paw over Primrose's:

"This, we vow."

Primrose placed her other paw over Pansy's:

"We vow."

Petunia smiled, suddenly feeling a whole lot better, and put both of her paws over her sisters':

"We vow."

* * *

The extra rooms in the cottage were spaced out; all of the needed belongings were in packs; the only thing that needed to be done now was for Lily and Dakar to be married.

At first the mousemaid considered waiting a bit longer for the wedding out of respect for Madam Breeze, but Ferdinand explained, "She wouldn't have wanted us to sit around grieving for very long. It's just like she always said, 'The show must go on'!"

And so the wedding was held, the vows were said, and soon the two newlyweds were being bombarded with snowy-white rose petals (most of which were from the paws of Primrose, Petunia, and Pansy). A small but grand feast was then held in the Council Lodge.

Because this might be the last time they ever saw her, the three maidens surrounded Ruri the hedgehog, their friend and tutor. The old hedgehog looked at them with eyes that were somehow both sad and happy.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"For what?" asked Petunia.

"For not letting your gifts go to waste. You were always very brave and very smart, Petunia. I'll admit I didn't quite expect you to chose the path of a Long Patroller, but from what I've heard, you have great talent for such a road. I have high expectations for you."

Ruri didn't mention she actually had the highest expectations for the haremaid, lest she become nervous or her sisters jealous.

"And Primrose," the old hedgehog said, turning to the ferretmaid. "I always loved it whenever you were on stage. I shall miss the weekly treat of seeing you perform.

"And Pansy . . . Pansy, Pansy, Pansy. I knew I didn't have to worry much about you. You know your talent, and nobeast is going to stop you. I admire that. But please, remember this, all of you. . . ."

Ruri trailed off, and the three maidens leaned forward, suddenly concerned but curious about what she was about to say.

"Don't forget to bathe regularly."

Gales of surprised laughter erupted from the little group. Primrose, Petunia, and Pansy knew that they would miss Ruri very much.

* * *

Many toasts were made, much dancing was performed: Dakar decided to haveLily teach him the rest of his dancing lessons, and he was now putting a full effort into them; Lily giggled and squealed as her new husband twirled her around the dance-floor; Vanna spun around while in the arms of Acorn, both squirrels laughing heartily; Pansy danced alone, as was her wont; Primrose only made it about halfway through a song before another male would cut in; Petunia opted to sit with Uncle Markas and discuss what route to take to Salamandastron; and suddenly it became time for The Roaming Whimsical Troupe to say their good-byes.

Primrose and Pansy, their hearts suddenly pounding, left the dance-floor and ran to kiss Lily and Dakar good-bye.

"We'll miss you," the ferretmaid said as she hugged Lily. "So much."

"I'll think about you every day," the squirrelmaid said as she was squeezed by Dakar.

"And I'll do the same," the warriormouse replied.

"The house'll be so empty and quiet once you've all gone," Lily said softly. Then she grinned. "It'll be wonderful!"

They all laughed. Merola then came over and said her good-byes as well.

"I wish you every bit of happiness," the old badgermum whispered in the mousewife's ear as they hugged. Turning to Dakar, Merola said in a firmer tone, "You take good care of her, you hear me?"

"Yes, I do, marm," Dakar replied, smiling.

"C'mere, you," the badger said, giving the male mouse an almighty hug.

"Careful, now!" said Lily. "I don't want to become a widow, now!"

They all laughed again, even Dakar, though he still massaged his ribs.

Just then Uncle Markas and Petunia came over. "Are you all leaving now? Well, if you are, I don't want to be hanging around here any longer. We'll be going too!"

And so more hugs and well-wishes were exchanged. Lily and Dakar hugged Petunia at the same time, wishing her good fortune on her journey.

"I'm so proud of you," Lily murmured.

"I'm proud, too," said Dakar. "To have been your teacher."

Petunia wiped her eyes, and was then embraced by her sisters and Merola.

"What'll we be like without you?" Pansy asked her sister, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

The haremaid smiled. "I suppose you'll be more quarrelsome without me to referee."

Primrose hugged her sister, her own eyes watering. "I'll miss you dreadfully. You were always the nice one."

Petunia wiped at her eyes, but was steadier than the other two. "And I'll miss you, too. Both of you."

"Why, Petunia!" Merola said, raising her eyebrows. "You're giving up more than these two are, and look at you! Ready to face what's in front you!"

The haremaid shrugged. "I suppose I should take that to mean I truly am meant to be a Long Patroller."

The old badger seized Petunia in a hug before turning to Markas.

"Take care of her now," she instructed.

"Don't you worry about a thing, stripedog," the old warrior replied, clapping her on the arm. "Just you worry about taking good care of my nieces!"

Let it be said that Uncle Markas would be forever held in awe by Pansy, who had never seen anybeast give Merola so much cheek.

Lily wrapped her arms around Markas. "Good-bye, Uncle. Oh, will you ever come back again?"

Markas winked. "Who knows. I may, I may not. But one thing's for sure, missy. I'll always love you."

Stepping away from his niece, the old warrior turned to Dakar. "I'm entrusting my only blood-niece to you, young un."

"I understand, sir," the young warrior nodded. "I have every intention of following your example in always loving her."

Markas held out his paw, and Dakar accepted it. Then the fat old mouse took the sturdy young one into a surprise embrace. "None of that formality! We're family now!"

Primrose and Pansy took their turn in hugging their Uncle, and just then, Rogak the otter came jogging up.

"You lot ready? Ferdinand's starting to get impatient."

"We're coming," Merola said.

After saying a few more good-byes, Merola, Primrose, and Pansy followed Rogak down to where the troupe was waiting.

* * *

"I don't know about you," the otter said to Primrose while they were still making their way out. "But there are some things that I am _not_ going to miss around here!"

"Like what?" the ferretmaid asked. Even as she spoke, however, Primrose saw none other than Winifred making her way towards them.

"Like Winifred," was Rogak's loud answer. "She was driving me _crazy_, acting like some swooning fool around me all the time! Honestly, I'll be glad to get rid of her!"

Primrose saw the ottermaid stop dead in her tracks. She had a look on her face of pure shock – that turned to pure outrage when she saw Primrose slip her arm through Rogak's, glancing over her shoulder to grant Winifred a smug smile.

The ottermaid started forward - but what she would've done would forever be a mystery, for Pansy, who had also seen Winifred coming, "accidentally" kicked a stool in the otter's path.

Winifred didn't seen the stool before she tripped, stumbled, and fell face-flat into one of the pies.

* * *

"All ready then?" Ferdinand called once he saw the group coming. "Let's get going!"

Rogak and Merola went off to help carry some of the heavier stuff, while Primrose and Pansy opted to help with some of the packs. They both felt a tremor of nerves – and excitement. They were finally living out their dreams, and seizing opportunity.

However, once they reached a certain hill, they both paused to gaze back at Noonvale, the place that had raised them since infancy. Merola also glanced back, but decided to give the two maidens a moment. They were the ones leaving the only home they had ever known, after all.

"I'm going to miss it," Primrose stated after awhile.

"Me too," Pansy nodded, staring out at the valley.

"But, this is good," Primrose said. "That wasn't the life for us. We couldn't have come into our own if we stayed. And besides," the ferretmaid added with a smile. "This way I can travel and possibly find a husband."

"And I can find my mother."

Primrose looked down at her sister, surprised. The squirrelmaid looked sad for a moment, but then she smiled up at the ferretmaid. Primrose put her arm around Pansy, and the two shared a small hug.

They were about to turn back around when they suddenly saw in the distance, two other figures on another hill.

It was Petunia and Uncle Markas.

Each duo saw each other, and gave one final wave.

"Why don't give them a war-cry, Petunia?" Markas suggested. "Something for them to remember you by?"

The haremaid agreed, and gave an all-powerful war-cry that was heard not only by Primrose, Pansy, and the entire Roaming Whimsical Troupe, but also by Lily and Dakar, who were standing outside the Council Lodge, watching as the three maidens went out into the world.

"_Eulalaiaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!"_

**The End**

**

* * *

**

* * *

**A/N:**. . . . It's not over yet, folks. Bwa ha ha ha ha haaa!

However, some of you *cough*FieldsofGlory*cough* have expressed concerns that the three maidens haven't yet 'made their way', so to speak. And you are right, my friend, they still have much more to learn.

Which is why I'm going to do a sequel.

HOWEVER, I do not know when I will be able to actually get started on it, as I am still formulating ideas of what could happen. Before, the whole plot-line was laid out before me, so it was easy to make everything fit together and be Redwall-ish. But this time, I'm on my own, which is very frightening.

Hopefully, I'll be able to figure out what I want to happen with our three little maidens. So far, I know I want to make this into a trilogy: the next fic will center on Petunia, and the one after that will focus more on Primrose and Pansy. Lily and Noonvale will not come back into the mix, as I think Lily deserves a 'happily ever after' after all that's she's been through.

So the next fic will be about Petunia and Uncle Markas making their way to Salamandastron, and Petunia joining up with the Long Patrol. But what could possibly happen, though? What could possibly be the conflict, except the typical vermin invasion? If any of you have any ideas, please don't be shy. I look forward to hearing any ideas any of you might have, and I look forward to seeing what'll be in store for our favorite haremaid. Heh, I think the perfect 'theme song' for Petunia is 'Defying Gravity.' I don't know why, I always think of her whenever I hear that song.

Oh yes, and just in case anyone is wondering: Primrose and Rogak . . . they're not meant to be. I'm sorry, but they're not. The reason I had them share a 'moment' at the end is because I wanted to make Winifred angry. Yes, I'm evil, BUT SO ARE YOU! Hmph! ;)

Welp, I hope you all enjoyed this fic as much as I did, and that you'll enjoy the next installments too.

Happy readings and writings to you all! God bless!

~Kel :)


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